


Out of the Past

by Cesela



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crimes & Criminals, Detective Noir, Heist, M/M, Private Investigators, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, kaishinbigbang2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 65,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesela/pseuds/Cesela
Summary: A canon divergence AU where instead of becoming Kaitou KID, Kaito instead quietly investigates the connection between his father and KID on his own.Set a few years into the future in Las Vegas. In which Kaito Hires a private investigator to determine the identity of the newly emerged Kaitou Corbeau.However it seems that the Edogawa & Co. Agency and its tenant are hiding their own fair share of secrets.Soulmate AU
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Comments: 46
Kudos: 199
Collections: kaishinbigbang 2020





	1. The Agency

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to this years Kaisin BIG BANG event. Thank you for all the support, and especially thank you to my partner, 15560931, for her amazing art and prompt.  
> All art under is made by her. Link to ther tumblr: https://15560931.tumblr.com/
> 
> Word count: 8054

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_“Kaitou Corbeau? Yeah, I’ve seen him. He stole the Starlight Gem from the hotel across the street a month ago. Very handsome man. I don’t know how he disappeared, but I hope they don’t catch him.”_

_“That annoying thief again? I’m tired of you fans asking over and over again, the police have real important jobs to do.”_

_“Even though he stole from me, I can’t really be mad. My stock has doubled since all the press the theft gave me. Unfortunately I don’t know anything about it, even the police is lost. Good luck finding him, I’ll give you a reward if you do.”_

Another day, another dead end. Kaito balled the piece of paper in his hand and threw it in the closest recycler. He had been in Las Vegas for over a week, yet he had learned nothing new. His mission had started to feel hopeless. Years of investigation and he had thought that the re-appearance of Kaitou Corbeau might be the answer to his prayers. Last time had been 15 years ago in Tokyo, but the thief had gotten away and never seen hair of again.

The connection between this guy and Kaitou 1412 was too uncanny to not be a coincidence – unless it was simply a case of a copycatting fan. He refused to believe it for now – could not afford to disregard the possibility until he had the evidence contradicting it. Corbeau was currently his only lead, he needed to follow the threads.

“I see your search today was fruitless as well, Mr. Kuroba,” as he walked into his hotel, the receptionist met him with a warm smile. She was a tall woman – by Japanese standard anyhow, with her hair pulled back in a professional ponytail. Her makeup was sparse and made her look natural in her beauty.

“I am afraid so, Lucy-san,” he replied with an accent, nodding towards her in familiarity, but he continued on his track past the reception without stopping. He was too tired and hungry to start a conversation.

“Have you thought about hiring a professional?” she continued, seemingly not taking the hint. “There is a private investigator agency just around the street corner. They have an almost 100% success rate.”

He stopped and turned to look at her, he opened his mouth to tell her he wasn’t interested: however that was not what escaped his lips. “How do you know? Is it because they are selective of their clientele? Doesn’t seem like a fair model to brag about.” He had met a variety of different kinds of PIs who exaggerated their skills.

Lucy shook her head at his sceptic expression. “Not at all. I haven’t known Conan to decline anyone. He might be young, but he is wiser than most twice his age. He helped me find my mother’s lost wallet last year. I didn’t have much hope of finding the thief, but my mother had a wedding picture in it of grandma and grandfather that was of sentimental value. I thought it was hopeless, but he found it.”

She held out a business card with friendly expression. Kaito hesitated for a moment, however in the week he had been here she had been genuine and kind. Refusing would be rude when she was just trying to go up and beyond that of customer service and help him out. He accepted the card with a nod and a ‘thank you’ before turning on his heels, leaving the room.

That evening in bed he found himself lying awake spinning the card in his hand. It was in plain white, with simple yet elegant letters. One side spelled “Edogawa & CO Agency”, the other had a phone number and an address. He wonders slightly if it was a coincidence: maybe the owner was Japanese, or perhaps they were simply a big fan of Edogawa Ranpo. He didn’t disregard either possibilities.

Kaito couldn’t help but be intrigued. It was true he was running out of ideas and starting to feel the situation was hopeless. He had been expecting a Private Investigator agency to be flamboyant; he recalled from back in Tokyo and other locations in Las Vegas where they had neon signs and large posters to indicate their offices. However he had walked the streets for a week and not seen any indication of it. Perhaps the PI was confident in his abilities that he didn’t need to brag for attention. Even the card was underwhelming, it could be for anything.

…

He had not meant to. Not really. He had left the hotel that morning, deciding to return to the Police Inspector in charge of the Kaitou Corbeau case. Once again he was turned away, and he felt himself feeling bitter. He had followed every trace and clue he could for a week. He had gotten on the plane feeling excited, thinking he had a case of suspects and eyewitnesses. Yet every single one had been a dead end. He was at his wits end.

He hadn’t managed to focus on his career as a magician knowing the answer to his father’s death was out there. It had been one thing investigating the case under the radar in his youth with the help of Jii in Japan, but much more difficult in a foreign country. He had spent his teens trying pointlessly to uncover any clues in the Kaitou KID cave. At one point he had considered taking up the mantle in order to draw out the criminals, but had discarded the foolish idea. He was many things, but he was not a thief.

Perhaps that was what had him standing outside the PI office. Staring up at a non-assuming building: the exact replica of the block next to it. He thought he had gotten the address wrong, before he noticed a small plaque on the doorbell reading _Edogawa & CO Agency. _It was the right address.

He took a deep breath, hesitated only a second, before pushing the door open. It opened up to a corridor. One door on his left and one on the right. In middle was a staircase. Looking back on the doorbells, he could tell the Agency was on the second floor. Without hesitating he stepped into the room: it was slightly warmer than outside, and he pushed off his hood on the white winter jacket he wore. He climbed the stairs.

There was only a small plaque on the door with the name of the agency, and he knocked on the door softly. After a few seconds he heard a voice calling out “come in.”

Despite his previous hesitation, he opened the door before he could change his mind.

The office was a spacious room: some old leather chair lined one wall, presumably for waiting clientele with a watercooler between the furniture. To his immediate left was a desk filled with papers, office knickknacks, a laptop and a vintage phone – of actual use or as a prop for the atmosphere feeling, he didn’t know. Sitting behind the desk was a young man wearing a blue vest over a white dress shirt. The jacket hung on the chair. Around his neck was a red bowtie rather than the usual more professional looking tie.

His hair was dark brown, with an impressive cowlick and a tuft in the back. His eyes were hidden behind the glare of his glasses and the light from the window behind him. He had a sharp nose and protruding cheekbones. All in all, he was a very attractive young man.

Past the desk was two closed doors, presumably to the main offices – he had forgotten to ask Lucy how many people actually worked at the agency.

“Welcome to the Edogawa & CO Agency, how can I help you?” the guy behind the counter said with a welcoming smile curling on his lips – Kaito assumed him to the receptionist. Despite the fact the young man looked Japanese he had a flawless accent. It was a good tactic to have an attractive individual greeting possible clients to put them at ease.

“Ehm,” he started a little unintelligently while hesitating, not quite decided if he really wanted to do this. After a moment he decided to screw it, it couldn’t harm to have a consultation at the very least. “Is Conan available for a drop-in meeting? Lucy Cambell, the receptionist at the Skyline Hotel down the road recommended this agency to me.”

The receptionist lips twitched a little with what Kaito interpreted as humour – must be an inside joke he decided. “He should be available yes. Why don’t you sit in his office while you wait.” He stood up and instructed Kaito to follow him to the door on the right.

“Thank you,” he smiled back as he ducked under his arm into the room. The room was filled with another office desk, this one slightly bigger than the one in the reception. A comfy chair was behind it, with two beige leather chairs in front. An ugly Persian carpet covered most of the floor. The walls were covered with a variation of archives and cupboard filled to the brim with books and files. It made the room feel crowded.

“Why don’t you take a seat.” The receptionist pointed towards the visitor chairs. “Would you like something to drink while you wait? Some water or coffee?”

“Ehm,” Kaito let out as he sank into the closest chair – it was entirely too fluffy to be comfortable. “A cup of coffee sounds good.”

“Can do, I will be right back.”

Kaito folded his hands as he waited, his eyes roaming through the room, looking for any clues on who this Conan fellow was. There were no family pictures on the desk, no personal items, nothing that immediately spoke to him. The library of books and files only told him that the detective was a neat freak. Everything seemed to be alphabetized.

The receptionist came back into the room and handed him a cup of steaming hot coffee with another twist of the corner of his lips. Kaito thanked him as he blew on the liquid before taking a sip. It was not as bitter as he had expected as the flavour spread across his palate pleasantly.

“How did you know I liked it with sugar?”

He could have sworn he saw a shadow of a smirk on the other man’s face as he rounded the corner of the desk and sat down on the chair. “You seemed like the type,” was the airy reply as he bent over to get a stack of paper. He shuffled them in front of him before pushing his glasses up his nose with his index finger. He made a small sound in the back of his throat as he reached for a pen.

Kaito fidget a little in his seat, and glanced behind him towards the door, wondering if the receptionist would get in trouble if Conan spotted him in his seat. There was no evidence of movement from the other room. He turned back to the young man, and cleared his throat.

“Do you know when Mr. Edogawa will be back?”

“Any minute now,” was the only reply as the man leaned over the desk a little to scribble something down on the paper.

Kaito started to feel a bubble of unease as he once again glanced towards the door. He really did not want the guy to get in any trouble for him. Pluss, it also felt a little disrespectful to sit in his boss’ chair.

“Are you allowed to sit here?” Kaito asked bluntly, before biting his tongue. He had not meant to say that out loud.

The receptionist did not even glance up at him before grunting in the back of his throat that meant either yes or no – Kaito could not tell. He took another sip of his cup, starting to feel confused at what was happening, before he suddenly remembered Lucy’s words from yesterday. He put his cup down on the table a little harder than intended as the liquid sloshed against the corners, nearly spilling.

“You are messing with me aren’t you,” his gaze narrowed down as the young adult sat up in his chair – with a neutral face, he folded his hands on top of the desk. “You are Edogawa Conan,” Kaito grunted in exasperation.

“I am,” the grin that had been flirting on the corner of his lip since Kaito walked into the office, finally stretched across it. “Sorry for the deception, but having noticed your assumption I decided to play along. It’s been a slow day at the office.” He waves his hand towards the exit. “My usual receptionist is home with a sick kid today.”

Kaito barely managed to keep from facepalming – he had wrongly mistaken him for a receptionist. However he could not be blamed as one rarely ever saw anyone so young in charge of a private investigator agency. He was not sure of Conan’s age, he seemed to be in his early twenties, but he knew not even Hakuba had been this ambiguous at that age.

“Apologies, however I had expected someone. Ehm, how do I say this – older perhaps?”

Conan did not seem to take any offense as his eyes glittered with mirth. “You wouldn’t be the first. Majority come in expecting something out of a noir television series or book. With an older gentleman with substance abuse. I’ll have you know my only addiction is that of a good cup of coffee.”

Kaito picked up his cup again, and held it in the air towards his companion. “Amen. I can get behind that.”

“So,” Conan continued after a moment. “What troubles brings you to my agency?”

He put the coffee back down, nodded a little to himself – he had made a decision to trust the young detective. He felt no embarrassment or resentment of being tricked, in fact in hindsight he would tell the story to Jii with mirth at being bested. “I’m looking for Kaitou Corbeau.”

The previous friendly expression disappeared, as Conan suddenly shook his head. “I’m not in business of helping fanboys. Leave the phantom thief to the police, and admire him from afar. That’s the only recommendation I can give.” He stood from his seat and held the palm of his hand up towards the door to indicate he was done with the meeting.

Kaito did not move from his seat. “It’s for personal reasons,” he gritted his teeth, unsure how much he should say. “I think Kaitou Corbeau is connected to the events that caused the death of my father 23 years ago. I’m not here looking for his identity to brag to my friends, or bring him to justice. That’s the secondary objective.” He paused for a second, “the bringing him to justice bit, not the bragging.”

Conan dropped his arm and looked at him with a calculating expression that he could not determine if it was good or bad.

He stood from his seat, picked up his backpack and started to fish out a thick document. “I put on a leave of absence for this. I cannot focus on work finally knowing where he is after fifteen years. I have travelled half across the world. This is everything I have on him,” he tried to hand Conan the document, and after a brief moment of hesitation, the detective accepted them. “I refuse to go back home without any answers. It’s been fifteen years, I want – no – I _need_ closure.”

Perhaps it was the determination in his gaze, or the desperation in his voice that had Conan give a slight nod in response. The stiffness of his shoulders dropped at the confirmation, and he felt a flood of relief. He didn’t know at which moment that he was certain he desired the detective’s help for sure. However it felt like the first step in the right direction for the first time in a week.

“I will be in contact,” was Conan’s reply as he dropped the content of the file on his desk, his glasses gleaming almost predatorily – and Kaito was suddenly very thankful he was on his side. The detective’s eyes looked to be of blue, determined steel behind the burning intelligence.

Kaito left the building with more hope than he had had in years, and his heart hammering in his chest at the memory of those mesmerizing eyes.

…

It had been two weeks since he had heard from Conan. The excitement started to churn in his stomach as the days passed by. He had not expected immediate results – he had spent fifteen years investigating on his own and occasionally with Jii-chan. However he had expected to hear something from him by now – if only for an update. For the past few days he had shown up to the office and found it locked. He was just looking for anything of information to rekindle the hope that he had gained leaving the agency two weeks ago.

He had already spent three weeks in Las Vegas, and he was burning through his savings. He was not yet ready to give up and go home. Once, Vegas had been his home. After high school he had taken up his mother’s offer of training underneath the greatest Magician’s of the time. Learned and perfected his skills underneath many a master within the craft.

He had only moved back to Japan five years prior: he had missed Aoko and his old friends. He wanted to make a name for himself in Japan, and with all the recommendations from his friends in Las Vegas, it had not taken long. He had thought all the fame and busy schedule would keep him from thinking about his father and Kaitou Corbeau. It had almost worked, he had put his files on the shelf. But then the phantom thief had shown up again.

He had laid awake for days thinking about it, Aoko had instructed him to let it go. But he couldn’t – he needed to know the truth. He had cancelled his Japan tour and put his career on hold to return to Las Vegas. He had sought all his old friends looking for any clue about the thief. Someone with such skill in performance art and magic surely had to have been trained by someone.

However, no one knew anything – or if they did, he could not tell if they were lying. The ability to keep a secret was a needed trait when your work entailed tricking an audience.

“Why so glum Kuroba?” the bartender stared at him with a curious expression. “It’s not like you to not be the centre of the party.” He flipped a glass from the counter, filled it with an undistinguishable brown liquid, and pushed it toward him with lopsided smile.

Kaito sat up on his seat where he had almost been laying on the counter. He nodded in thanks for the glass and donned the shot in one go. He barely managed to not grimace as the putrid flavour spread across his palate.

“Just a lot of stuff on my mind, Kenya,” he mumbled after a second, and he turned his gaze around the room. In a corner a trio of magicians whose faces were all familiar to him was talking excitingly. By a table another group was playing cards – in which everyone was cheating. The rules were the last one to get spotted won.

The Herrmann bar was a secret hanging for the local magicians and performers. Only known by them, and you only gained membership by invitation. Kaito had been a regular for years. Kenya was a bartender in his mid-twenties who moonshined as a performance artist. He wanted to get into magic, although talented, he lacked the confidence to perform in front of a large audience. His hair was divided into three colours: black, red and green. He wore thick eyeliners and had a small star drawn on his chin.

“The reason you came back I imagine,” Kenya continued as he grabbed the empty glass. “Las Vegas is not an easy place to leave. You are always drawn back to the magic.”

Kaito’s lips quirked upwards in a humourless smile. “I sure could need some real magic about now.”

“Cant say I know what you are talking about. But know you have our help if you need it for anything.”

He turned back to Kenya and pointed at the closest bottle. “Thanks for the offer, but I decided my try at professional help.”

The bartender grabbed the bottle and started pouring another glass. “That’s very far to travel just for a shrink, mate.”

Kaito let out a small laugh and couldn’t help the grin that spread on his lips. “Not that kind of help. But thank you for the confidence.” Kenya’s eyes glittered mischievously in response and he placed the shot glass in front of him. “I was thinking more along the help of a P.I.”

He cocked his head in curiosity. “Is that so? Whom did you go to? The Ganimard & CO Agency is a pretty popular organization. Ganimard is a good guy, but he hits the bottle a bit more often than he should.”

Kaito shook his head. “No. I went to this place right by my hotel. Came with recommendation. The name’s Edogawa Conan. Have you heard about him?”

If he had not known the man better, he wouldn’t have seen the miniscule changes in him. Kenya stood a little taller, his shoulder thigh and his eyes darted across the room. Kaito could have sworn he looked a little paler underneath the makeup caging his face.

He sat up automatically in response, and the hand that had gone for the shot glass now clutched it into his palm. The edges off the glass bit harmlessly into the skin. “What’s wrong? Was that not a wise choice?”

Kenya bit his lip; it was an unconscious trait he had when he was nervous. He was a horrible poker player. “Not per say,” he said with a soft voice. His entire demeanour was guarded. “I hear a lot of things as a bartender. Most people just ignore you as a shadow on the wall. Useful for gossip and some innocent intel. Magicians like to reveal some of their secrets when they are sloshed.”

Kaito downed the glass, and then gave an impatient wave of the hand to indicate that the bartender should get to the point already.

“Edogawa’s track record is exceptionally sure. He is smart, brilliant and generous. I haven’t heard anything bad about him directly, but I have heard rumours that he has some dangerous associates. As in,” he leaned in and lowered his voice even further. “There are eyes on his little agency. Mr. Moony from the Maskelyne theatre was throwing a fit threatening Edogawa once when the detective was hired by his wife to see if he was cheating. Spoilers, he was. The day after Mr. Moony was gone from the theatre. Left for New York last time I heard. Some of his associate said he left in a hurry after apologising to Edogawa. I think someone must have made some very dangerous threats to make Mr. Moony back off. He had a terrible temper that man did. Can’t say I’m not glad he is gone.”

He leaned back up, grabbed the empty glass and started to clean it with exaggerated movement with a towel.

Kaito frowned at the story. He remembered Mr. Moony. He was one of the older Magicians who had refused to train him back in the day. Once Kaito’s skills outshined his, the man had showed severe dislike towards him. Kaito had wisely kept his distance, with all the connection he had, Moony was not a man to trifle with. Yet someone had gone to a length to keep his wrath away from Edogawa?

Truth be told, he knew barely anything about the agency. They did not have a webpage or any other means of advertisement. When he had googled Edogawa Conan, he had only been referred to some old news articles from 10 years ago about a brilliant young detective in Tokyo.

“Should I –“ he hesitated for a moment. “Call him off my case? I don’t want to get involved with anything dangerous.”

Kenya’s answering smile did not reach his eyes. “I’m sure its fine. Like I said, people only speak warmly about his services. It’s when you make threats that things go hairy. As long as you are wary you should be fine.”

Kaito was not sure what to believe. The young man he had met in the office seems like a punk, but not a dangerous one at that. Perhaps the rumours were just that – slandering stories. It was all probably a coincidence – Mr. Moony had pissed off a lot of people. It was not impossible that his wife had been involved with why he left Las Vegas. She was a terrifying and jealous woman. She would not have taken the infidelity kindly.

“Yeah,” he said after a thoughtful moment. “I’m sure you are right.” He stood from his seat, dropped some crisp dollars on the bar counter and grabbed for his jacket. “Thanks for the chat, but I think I’ll get going.”

Kenya scoped the bills up. “Alright. Don’t be a stranger now, Kuroba.”

He only nodded in response. He pulled the jacket on and left. The sound of murmurs and music disappeared as the door shut close behind him. The winter air was crisp on his ears, and he pulled the hood of his jacket over his head in compliance. The white fur on the hood almost tickled his nose. He started down the alleyway: it led to a popular street. The shining neon lights blinked all around him almost blindingly. He came to an abrupt stop as a wind blew some snow crystal past him.

It was snowing. In Las Vegas.

It never snowed here. It was practically a town in the middle of a dessert. His entire body shivered in response to the sight. He hated the snow – no, loathed it. Those innocent white flecks of crystalized ice. One of the reasons he had loved living in the city, was that it never got cold enough for it to snow.

His chest bubbled with disgust. He hated everything connected with snow: snowball, snow forts, skiing, ice skating – all the times Aoko had forced him to ice skate in his youth. He had done it to please her, but he disliked it severely. To him, the falling of snow was not a picture of innocence and beauty, rather it was filled with nothing but anguish and silence. It was cold, harsh and cruel.

Instinctively, his right hand drifted towards his chest, and settled above his heart. The words written underneath seemed to almost burn into his skin – however he knew it was just his imagination.

Everyone had a soulmate in the world, one person who were destined to understand you and to complement each other perfectly. Some walked through their life not knowing who their partner were, and some knew instinctively from first glance – a soulmate pair would always be drawn together. For those who are uncertain and struggle to discover their destined partner, a phrase was written on everyone’s body that will help identify them. However, it was not as easy as it sounded, as the word or sentence written will be the last thing they ever hear the other say to them.

And Kaito, like many others, choose to stay away from the condition that can accidently bring forth the situation – there was entirely too many horror stories of soulmates meeting for the first time during the last dying breath of the other. No one wanted to be the one left behind, and the soulmarks were a curse more than a blessing.

Kaito’s aversion to snow was understandable – it was never questioned as it was easily assumed the reason of it. He would rather live not knowing who his soulmate was, than to meet them at their dying breath. He suddenly was struck by the need to flee. Leave Las Vegas, travel south, as far as he could. Run to a place that never had seen snow.

However, it was a moot point. He could not run from destiny. He should not let his fear keep him from living his life. Finally, he could take a deep breath and control the anxiety that had crawled up on him. He let his shoulders fall as he continued walking, his eyes glued on the ground so he did not have to see the falling of the snow. This was better: it was manageable. His fear was only in his head after all.

By the time he got to his hotel, the snow had stopped falling. It had thankfully only been a short quall. He brushed off the snow as he entered the reception, nodded towards the night-receptionist – a older gentleman with grey hair curling on his sides.

The hotel was usually empty at this time a night. Most guests would either have gotten back from a day of sightseeing, or they were already outside drinking until the early morning. He rushed past a couple he recognized; they had arrived a few days ago. From their happy expression and giggling nature – and the new golden matching rings on their finger – he assumed them to be on their honeymoon. They ignored him as he walked past.

He came to a stop in front of his door in surprise. There was a note taped on the door. Looking around curiously, he pocketed the note and unlocked the door. The room was modest: he had not gone for an expensive one, as he had no idea how long he would be spending in Las Vegas. However, he had everything he needed. A bed, a nightlamp, a closet, a TV on top of a table, as well as a mini-bar. To his left was the door to a spacious bathroom. It was the kind that had a bathtub rather than a shower. He looked forward to soaking in the water to get warmth back into his bones after walking in the crisp cold.

Kicking off his boots and leaving the jacket draped over a chair, he sat down on the bed. The note lay in his hand. It had no markings on it: no indication of whom it was from. Without any name, it was hard to tell whether or not it really was for him, or someone had taped it on the wrong door. With his curiosity peaked, he opened the note.

The piece of paper only contained an address and a time. Nothing else. It felt a bit anticlimactic. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not. Despite there not being any indication of the writer, he had an inkling of whom had sent it. He fell back on the bed and clutched the letter to his chest. A smile curled on his lips in pleasure. Finally. Finally, he was getting somewhere.

Tomorrow, he would finally get some answers: he was certain of it.

…

The address led him to a house that could only be described as a mansion. It was unnecessary lavish with archers and columns, and the odd winged statue made of marble in between. The walls around were tall enough that it would be hard to climb let along see into the courtyard, and cameras were pointed towards the house and the gate at every angle. He only hesitated for a moment – wondering if he had the correct address, before he approached the gate. The door was made of red mahogany – once again he found it distasteful to waste such expensive material - a con system was on the right.

He pressed the button. A small buzz sound tickled his ears. After few seconds a rough voice replied.

“Yes?”

That sounded positively welcoming, he thought drily. “A Kuroba Kaito to see Edogawa Conan. Erh, I mean Mr. Edogawa.” He bit his tongue at the slip up – he had spent too long in Japan that he forgot that most foreigners were unaware of their habits of adding the surname first out of respect.

He only had to wait a short moment, before the voice responded – most likely to check if he was allowed in or not. “You have permission to enter. Go through the front door and to your left. Mr. Edogawa is in La sala principal.”

The door buzzed, and he pushed the door open after a quick ‘thank you’. The front yard wasn’t particular large – but larger than for a usual house, but he assumed the main garden would be in the back for privacy as most homes had a tendency to do. The grass was sparkling green despite it being winter, and it looked freshly mowed. A fountain with a baby angel spluttered on his right. He followed the gravel road to the front door.

Just as he reached it, the door opened from within. A man greeted him with a nod. He wore dark sunglasses despite being indoors, had a small moustache and trimmed short, hair. His suit looked to be costing more than Kaito’s whole wardrobe he gathered a guess. He looked of Latino descent – something which would explain the Spanish earlier. Above his ear was a small wired ear piece, identifying him as a body guard of some kind.

“This way Mr. Kuroba,” he grunted as Kaito stepped into the house, and started to lead the way.

The magician only had a brief time to look at his surroundings before he hurried after the man. The inside was even more lavish than the outside. Most of the décor seemed to be made of the best marbles, with statues and other expensive looking vases and paintings. A staircase made of white marble led up to the first floor, and every room seemed to have a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Despite being impressed by the clear showcase of wealth, he couldn’t help the gnawing feeling of exasperation – the owner of the house had far more money than anyone would ever need.

The main hall – or La sala principal that the man on the coms had called it – was on a platform. The architecture was that of the marble that the rest of the house seemed to be built with, with a large ceiling with arches and vaults in the typical gothic form. A spiral staircase led up to the second floor, where he could see the glimpses of paintings. The first floor itself was spacious, but with the occasional glass monitors in the middle and framing the walls. He could see jewels, diamonds, crowns, Ming vases and a lot of other wonders from just a quick survey of the room. The owner must be a large collector: he had never seen a museum that could compare to the extravagant and priceless exhibition he was currently witnessing.

The bodyguard did not say anything as Kaito ventured into the room. From the corner of his eyes he could see the man stand by the entrance, following him like a hawk with his eyes. Despite the many cameras, it did not seem the owner trusted anyone to be alone amongst his prized possessions. Kaito could not blame him one bit. He would have been just as cautious.

His eyes were automatically drawn to a piece standing proudly behind a glass monitor on his left, and seeing as no one protested, he approached it. The necklace itself was of white gold, simply yet elegant with small spirals etched into the metal from top to bottom. It reached down to a larger Fibonacci spiral. Between the right and the left one stood a large, white, flawless diamond.

Kaito did not even want to hazard a guess as to its value. More money than he would see in a lifetime was the closest he could get.

“Do you like it?”

A familiar voice had Kaito turn around in surprise – he had not seen or heard anyone else in the room. Conan was standing right behind him, the glare of his glasses made his eyes obscured and unreadable. He still wore a red bow tie around his neck, but his vest was hidden underneath a midnight blue coat. He still looked immaculate dressed with groomed hair and ironed clothing. Last time they had spoken things had gone so quickly that he had not realized that the detective was half a head short than him.

“It has quite a tragic story linked to the name: Betrayed Heart. They say it was made by a man who worked in the concentration camps in the forties. One day he had brought a group to the gas chamber. As he hit the button one of the victims had walked to the door and yelled something. The tale doesn’t say what, but the soldier recognized the person as his soulmate. He never got to see their face – but the voice never let him. Knowing he had, by his own actions, killed his soulmate: he deserted. Wounded up in America sometime, made this piece from the gold and diamond stolen from Jews. Then he killed himself.”

Kaito felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and he only barely managed to keep from placing a palm above the soulmark on his chest. He couldn’t imagine something like that ever happen: the guilt would be soul wrecking.

“Of course, I don’t know if there is actually any truth to the story. Horrible things happen all the time, so it is not beyond improbability. One can often hear the story of killers turning themselves into the Police when they took the life of their soulmate unknowingly.” Conan continued, his gaze went from focusing on Kaito to the necklace on the display. His lips quirked downwards in what could only be described as sorrow. “Imagine being haunted by the knowledge your actions are the sole responsibility for the death of the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally? Some would say life wouldn’t be worth living.”

Kaito couldn’t help but fidget at the intensity of the detective, even though it wasn’t focused on him. Who knew what he had seen or gone through – especially in his vocation. He did not envy anyone who worked with police investigations: seeing the worst of people.

“Accidents happen all the time. You could accidentally drive over them with your car. Even if the person wasn’t, its manslaughter, its still a horrible situation. Someone died. You should be guilty and heartbroken knowing you caused the death of someone. Not just soulmates.”

Conan glanced back at him, and for a moment he imagined he could see a flicker of surprise in his eyes before the glare of the artificial lights above obscured them once more. “That is a pretty logical solution. More people find mourning the death of a soulmate above the death of a random stranger.”

Kaito gave a one shouldered shrug, “call me callous if you want. But the death of anyone is still a sad void in the world. If I was a criminal, why think you are above the law and think that none of this won’t apply to you as long as it isn’t personal. Whether the victim is your soulmate or not, it doesn’t make a single difference. They should be emotionally wrecked by the act of killing. But that’s just my thoughts on it.”

Conan looked thoughtful, before giving a short nod. “I don’t think anyone would disagree with that logic. It’s a theoretically sound idea. But in practicality, you will always choose your friends over the life of a stranger. The personal versus the unknown. It’s the human psychology. May I enquire about a personal question? Just to see if my current theory is correct or not.”

“Yeah, sure. Ask away,” Kaito looked curiously down at him. Wondering what he wanted to know.

“Do you personally have a soulmark or are you one of those who will never cross path with them?”

He looked away, his cheeks burning. Wether of embarrassment or otherwise he wasn’t sure. It was not something people asked, it was a private affair. However Conan seems to lack any kind of shame as he could feel the detective’s gaze burning into him with inquisitiveness.

For a moment he considered not answering, but his curiosity won over his defensiveness. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have been asked if it wasn’t for an important reason.

“I do have a soulmark, yes. I wont be showing it to you though –“

Conan waved a hand in disinterest. “No need. That’s between you and whatever God you believe in. I believe you.” He then brought the hand to his chin in thoughtfulness. “Fascinating. It seems I have misjudged you, Kuroba. Usually you only find such scepticism in people who lack a mark. To them the whole concept is wrong – and occasionally they hate it because they do not themselves have one. Yet you disregard the whole concept as a lack of morality. I like it.”

This time, he knew exactly what the blush that crept from his collar was. “It’s not exactly a revolutionary thought. I just don’t see the point of romanticising the whole thing. I wont know until they are on their dying breath. I think I’d feel better not having a mark. That way I will never know for certain who is and isn’t my soulmate.”

“Ah,” Conan replied after a moment. He dropped his hand, and for a moment Kaito felt a bang in his stomach at what looked like disappointment in the detective. “You are one of those.”

He did not really know what to reply to that, other than biting down the uncomfortable feeling that settled in his stomach. He had liked it a lot better when Conan had been admiring him.

“I’m sure you are wondering why I asked you to this location,” he continued, seemingly done with the conversation. From out of a pocket he fished out a piece of paper. “Through my network I have learned that Kaitou Corbeau intends to steal this necklace tonight.”

Kaito’s jaw dropped in surprise. His thoughts jumped from _How_ , _What, impossible_.

Conan must have noticed his inability of speech. “Most of the thefts seemed to be private and directed at criminals. That’s why it hasn’t made the news. In fact, he has been a lot more active than anyone has been aware of: as no one actively announce or share between them that their security was breached. You are lucky I have my connections.”

“That’s amazing,” Kaito managed to splutter. “I have been researching for so long, I didn’t have a clue.” Then, suddenly the words sank in, and he looked around quickly before leaning down to whisper. “Whose house are we in currently?”

“Joaquín Guzmán,” Conan said, seemingly unphased at his distress.

“The Mexican Cartel?” Kaito almost squeaked, before placing a hand over his mouth. Oh shit, that explained the guards and the Spanish and how careful they were. How in heavens did the detective have ties to the criminal organization to a point they would just casually let him waltz into their home and even invite a stranger?

He must have seen the panic rising in him, and only gave a roll of his eyes and a scoff. As though he was thinking Kaito was overreacting. “He owes me a favour. It isn’t important.” He waves the piece of paper in front of him, temptingly. “Would you like to know what I found out or not?”

Kaito felt himself hesitating, on one part he yearned to reach out and pluck the piece of paper from him: finally getting some answers. On the other hand, he was starting to wonder what he had gotten himself involved with. He recalled Kenya’s statement from yesterday: _people only speak warmly about his services. It’s when you make threats that things go hairy. As long as you are wary you should be fine._

It calmed his nerves enough that he held his palm out. Just knowing anything would be enough for him. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you. How much do I owe you?”

Conan handed him the slip. “Absolutely nothing. I don’t do this for money.”

Kaito frowned at that, before shaking his head a little. The detective was sure a really strange guy. Without saying anything else, he folded the paper. It had the same elegant handwriting as from the note from yesterday.

 _Northwest alleyway: he will make an escape from the balcony and land there at approximately 12.03_.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, his entire body frozen in time. He had never in his wildest dream imagined he would be allowed to confront the phantom thief. He had not known what to expect, however this was beyond his wildest imagination.

“To say it short, this is my prediction. I am 95% sure I’m correct. Some margin of error is possible, as I do not have a say in what the guards will do tonight. But I hope you get to confront your target,” Conan’s expression suddenly turned razor sharp; and Kaito felt a dangerous aura emanating from him. “If you value your life, you will not mention this to anyone. Especially not to Guzmán’s men. I have given them different instructions. You should have enough time.”

Kaito felt another shiver down his spine, and his stomach churned a little in what he could only describe as fear. “I understand.” It all made sense now; perhaps the drug lord had contacted the Agency for help with preventing the thief from stealing the necklace. That would explain why Conan was here after all. “Are you sure I can’t pay you? I don’t feel comfortable making you take such a dangerous risk for me –“

Conan cut him off before he could finish, repeating his previous statement. “I don’t take payment. Do as you please with the information I’ve given you. Turn him into the police if you want,” he glanced down at his wristwatch. “That is all the time I have. I need to go, Miguel will show you out.” He nodded towards the guard that had greeted Kaito at the entrance. Before he could reply, the detective had turned on his heels and walked away, out of sight.

Kaito’s heart was hammering in his chest. Was this really happening? Would he finally get the chance for a proper answer after fifteen years? He felt a bit uneasy on how things had escalated: being involved with something criminal? The morally right would be to turn this information into the police. However…

He had never turned the Kaitou KID cave into the authorities. He had kept it as his dirty little secret for almost two decades. He had already broken the law by not turning the evidence in – and his escapades as a teen had toyed with the rules bordering to illegal. Who knew if the police would be able to even catch the phantom thief – they had not done so for over a decade. This would most likely be his one and only chance.

He curled the note in his fist as he balled them. He needed to make plans on how he would corner Kaitou Corbeau on the off chance he would actually showed up – he did not doubt Conan’s predictions, but a part of him thought it was impossible that it was so easy. That it had just fallen into his lap like this.

Better yet, he needed to calm his thoughts enough to figure out what he would ask the thief if – when – he cornered him.

“Ready to go, mr. Kuroba,” Miguel said with a gruff, impatient voice. His eyes drilled almost like daggers into Kaito’s back.

“Yes of course,” he replied back immediately, not wanting to irate the man. He kept the anxiety from his voice; he had seen the bugle of a gun under jacket when he had entered the abode. “Sorry for the wait,” with a last glance at the necklace, he turned around and left.

He had a lot of things to plan until midnight.


	2. Kaitou Corbeau

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All art belongs to 15560931
> 
> Wordcount: 8209

The evening air was cold and crispy, forcing Kaito to wrap his scarf tighter around his throat. His fingers felt icy as he rubbed them together. The temperature had dropped, but fortunately it had not snowed again since yesterday. He was not sure how he felt, his stomach churned from the nerves, his chest throbbed with the anticipation, and his head swam with a million thoughts and possibilities.

After the meetup with Conan, he had scouted the back alley thoroughly. His head had been spinning with thoughts of ‘how do I corner Corbeau?’ ‘what will I say to him when I meet him?’ ‘what if he doesn’t show?’ He had not let himself wallow in doubts. He was certain this would work: it had to.

As he looked around the alley during daylight, there had been nothing out of place. It looked identical to the other alleys down the road. A few garbage containers littering the wall: behind one of them he had uncovered a dirty and smelling sleeping bag belonging to a beggar, and some empty bottles. He had not disturbed the contents any further.

He glanced towards the mansion, seeing a balcony situated on the top floor. He assumed that would be the escape route. He wondered, if he had been the thief, exactly how he would have executed the heist. He had scoured over the old footage of his father as Kaitou KID, and the fewer in number of Kaitou Corbeau. The largest difference between the two was the visibility. KID, in his stark white clothing drew eyes and attention. He wanted the public to see him and be distracted from the deceit in the background. Meanwhile, Corbeau was dressed in black and kept to the shadows. His deceit done in the dark where it was hard to see. He did not want to be seen and would rather disappear into the darkness once he had finished.

It had given Kaito an idea. If Corbeau wanted to sneak past the hired goons of the cartel, he needed to be inconspicuous and vanish into thin air. Unlike the police, the thugs would not hesitate to shoot on sight. He assumed, the way Corbeau had gained access to the estate was to infiltrate disguised as one of the guards. After the heist, he would most likely adorn the disguise once more to disappear into the crowd.

He had left the alley after that, could not afford to bring any attention to the location in case Corbeau was doing a pre-heist recon. The thief might be spooked if he noticed anyone pay extra attention to his escape route. Kaito was not willing to take the risk.

He returned to the alley half an hour before the time Conan had predicted the thief would show up. He did not dare push his luck by showing up too early. However he was confident in his belief that Corbeau must be inside the mansion already and in position.

Kaito had put on a layer of wool under his jacket, knowing fully well that the night would be crisp and cold. He was fully aware that he might be forced to spend hours waiting outside. He had forgone his white winter jacket in favour of one in black. He wanted to be hidden in the shadows: he did not want to be caught by any members of the cartel. They might mistake him for the thief if he was caught: why else would someone be hiding in a back alley behind the estate?

As he returned, he was filled with giddiness. Wondering if his prediction had been correct: the moment he had seen the sleeping bag an idea had popped into his head. Approaching the container, he reached behind it for the sleeping bag. It was barely noticeable in the darkness, and he would only have spotted it because he already knew he would find it. There was now a small bulge inside.

With a grin slowly creeping over his lips, he opened the bag. The light bulb above had long since stopped working. Perhaps Corbeau was behind it, he did not doubt the possibility. Despite the darkness, he could easily identify the contents. He was holding an exact copy of the suit that the guards had been wearing earlier today. It seemed as though Corbeau intended to disguise himself here in order to slip past the search party.

He finally had his leverage. He moved the content to a different location, and hunkered between the containers, keeping out of sight. Providing the thief weren’t wearing night goggles, he should be able to keep out of sight until necessary.

That brought us back to now, with Kaito huddling in the cold and blowing on his fingers. He checked his watch again: it was only ten to midnight. There was around 13 minutes left, at least according to Conan. He prayed the detective was correct, and that Corbeau had not hidden more uniforms in more alleys and this location was just a red herring.

With deep breaths, he tried to calm his heart pulsating in his throat. His body tingled with excitement, but also dread. If he was not careful, things could go horribly wrong pretty quickly. He tried to keep his attention to every sound and movement, but his thoughts kept drifting towards Edogawa Conan. Every time they met, he was left with more questions than when he had started. The detective was an enigma wrapped in a puzzle. He seemed far too young to be so chummy with criminals, yet he was a brilliant individual who, in a matter of two weeks, had come closer to catching the thief than Kaito had done in fifteen years.

He thought about earlier today, when the early afternoon sun had shone through the crystal windows above, making Conan’s blue eyes glitter like the sea before a storm. He was an attractive young man, with strong cheekbones and a flawless jaw. The exact same weakness Kaito had in men. And whenever he met Kaito’s eyes and his lips curled up in a small smile, his heart flutter ever so slightly in his chest. Damn. He better be careful with those thought, lest he started to get emotionally involved. He had no time for such nonsense. In a few weeks he would return to Japan and no longer think about the detective, he told himself sternly.

Plus, just like the sea, Conan seemed unpredictable and dangerous – who knew what he was involved with behind the scenery. He truly was as tranquil as the sea before a storm. A storm that could catch and drown Kaito at any given moment if he wasn’t careful.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shouting. He sat up from his crouch, his ears peeled for every and any sound. The shouting seems to originate from the mansion. His chest pulsated with adrenaline at the realization that it had started. His eyes were strained towards the balcony in the distance. Inwardly he was silently begging that Conan’s prediction was correct. It only took a few more minutes of waiting before the door opened with a crash and a familiar figure in black stepped out and over the balcony. As he fell, his cape suddenly morphed into a hang glider.

For a few seconds Kaito lost track of the figure due to the blinding light and the black cloths. It was hard to see him in the darkness – which was obviously the intended effect. He hid behind the container, not wanting to take the chance of discovery and that Corbeau would fly over it altogether to a different alley.

He swallowed nervously: this was it. What fifteen years of investigation had led to. Almost half his life at this point. Please, please don’t screw it up, he prayed. He did not have to wait long before he heard the fluttering of clothes as something landed. A moment later there was the rustling of movement as what he assumed was a container as Corbeau moved it looking for his hidden stash.

“Is it this what you are searching for, Kaitou Corbeau?” Kaito stepped out of the shadows, his entire body thrumming from the adrenaline and anticipation. He was thankful his voice didn’t betray the conflicting feelings storming inside. In his left hand, he was holding a bag of clothing.

Kaitou Corbeau had been leaning over the container, but as Kaito spoke he froze. It was only a second of being stunned, before he twirled around. A black gun clutched in one hand, now pointing at the intruder. The thief looked exactly as he did in the media, even after all these years. The ridiculous black outfit with a black top hat with a midnight blue ribbon. A cape fluttered in the wind behind him. The black suit was accompanied with a shirt matching the colour of the ribbon, and a white tie. A small, elegant moustache curled above his upper lip. His jaw seemed chiselled to perfection: almost painfully flawless, as though it wasn’t a real face at all. A small monocle hid his left eye. He had not aged a single year.

“If you value your life, my good sir, I would recommend handing that over,” Corbeau spoke in flawless English, there was no hint of an accent that could identify his nationality.

“I thought you were above idle threats,” Kaito replied smoothly. “I know you wont shoot. I have some questions and you can be on your way. I have no intention of being in your way.” With slow, deliberative movements, he placed the bag of clothes on the container next to him, before holding both palms of his hands in the thief’s direction to show he meant no harm, and that he was unarmed. He took several steps back.

Corbeau seemed almost puzzled, he had clearly not expected this turn of events. With slow, skittish movements, he slowly approached the cloth. His hand on the gun shifted as an indication of his torn thoughts. However the face was smooth with no betraying emotions. Kaito only noticed due to being used to the poker face of performers.

“Did you know Kaitou KID?” he rushed out in one breath. “Is that you are wearing this mirror of his outfit? Do you know who killed him?” His thoughts were spinning with questions. He had made a list of them earlier today, however part of him had thought he would never get to this point. Suddenly all and every questions he had written down was promptly forgotten.

By now, Corbeau had grabbed the bag, his gun never wavered from Kaito’s face. At the mention of Kaitou KID, his pokerface cracked ever so slightly. There was a miniscule dip of his lips, whether in uncertainy or another emotion, Kaito could not tell.

“Good sir, I highly recommend ceasing this line of questioning. I am merely a fan of the original. A copy cat if you will,” this time, his lips curled into a grin, however there was something in the dip of his head that led Kaito to believe he was lying. The thief started to back away with slow steps, his attention averted to the sound of footsteps behind him.

“Please,” slipped past his lips with desperation, “I just need answers. I’ve been looking for you for fifteen years. It can’t be a coincidence; I refuse to believe it. There has to be a connection. Was it Snake who killed him? Are you also searching for Pandora?”

Corbeau kept backing away, his face turned to keep an eye towards the street. Someone shouted something in Spanish as the sound of footsteps increased. The thief pointed his gun towards the closest building. “Pandora? Nothing but a fairy tale. I’m terribly sorry to say, but you have wasted your time.” He tipped his tophat towards Kaito. He pulled the trigger of his gun, and a grapple shot from the muzzle. It attached itself to something on the roof.

For a moment he hesitated, with quick movement he pulled out a small pouch from his jacket. “Catch,” he said as he threw the aforementioned pouch in the direction of Kaito. A second later the thief was dragged upwards with a rope and was gone as quick as he had arrived.

“Wait!” Kaito called out as he tried to toss himself towards Corbeau before he was yanked upwards. He landed heavily on the ground, all air in his lunge exhaled in a strangled yelp. The pouch hit him in the head with a grunt. He could do nothing but to stare helplessly as the thief vanished over the rooftop.

Damn it all to hell. He did not feel slightly relieved having finally cornered Corbeau. All his questions had been evaded: what had he even been thinking. Of course finding Corbeau would not solve everything, but the child in him had desperately believed it would. If only he caught the thief, then fifteen years of investigation wouldn’t have been for naught. His eyes started to prickle at the despair. He felt so foolish with his dumb hope.

The sound of footsteps came closer, followed by more shouting. He suddenly realized that laying on the pavement in a dark alley was not the best time to have a breakdown. He grabbed the pouch and stuffed it into a jacket, before turning on his four and push himself up on his feet. Another burst of adrenaline flooded through him. If he was caught, he would be in a world of problems.

As he saw the first figure appear from a corner, two arms suddenly burst out from the darkness and enveloped him. A hand on his mouth kept him from shouting in surprise as he was dragged into the shadows between two containers. He exhaled loudly through his nose and made the motion to knee his elbow into his assailant’s stomach.

“Stay still, Kuroba,” a voice growled into his ear in Japanese. In his surprise, he immediately went slack in the arms. A moment later the waft of coffee and old books tickled in his nose – a smell he instantly associated with Edogawa Conan.

In complete silent, he watched from his hiding spot a group of six guards pile into the alleyway. They looked around while talking loudly to each other in Spanish. After a few seconds of shallowly searching, they left.

Kaito’s back felt aflame and pleasant tingles erupted from the spot where they were touching. His heart was fluttering being so close to the detective. He swallowed thickly and tried not to squirm as he imagined he could feel the detective’s breath on his neck. It made the hair on his body stand up – he felt almost light headed and out of breath. He simultaneously wanted to get some space between them, and draw him closer at the same time. It was a disorienting.

They waited in silence for another minute to see if they came back. Conan finally released him and pushed past him into the street – Kaito could not help but to swallow down the disappointment at the separation. He instantly felt colder, and he missed the warmth of the other’s body heath.

“Follow me, and keep walking,” the detective said through the corner of his lips, not stopping to wait to see if Kaito followed his order.

He did not have to be asked twice as his pulse beat heavily in his throat. He sprinted to catch up with him before walking next to him. They stepped out of the alley, and his companion casually nodded towards some of the guards. They must have recognized him as they did nothing to stop the duo from walking away.

Kaito felt out of breath from the whole dizzying situation. Too many things had happened too quickly. “Were you hiding in there the whole time?” it only took him a second to realize he had spoken out loud, however he did not regret it as it had been on his mind for the past few minutes.

Conan’s glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “No, I would not breach your privacy.” They walked in silence for a few more beats, before he sighed, clearly seeing the question Kaito was vibrating to ask. “I saw the guards approach quickly, so I slipped into the alleyway to warn you. It would be my fault if something happened to you: you wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for me. Not something I would like to have on my conscious.”

“Aw,” Kaito replied, a smile curling on his lips. “I knew you cared.” When all he got in response was a roll of his eyes, his smile dwindled into a more serious expression. “Thank you. I mean it. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

They turned a corner, out of view from possibly inquisitive gazes. “Did you get any answers to your questions?”

Kaito looked way, his teeth gnashing against his under lip, feeling the defeat and disappointment wash over him. “No. I didn’t learn anything. Who knew criminals didn’t like to share information.”

Conan’s lips curled upwards ever so slightly, and the light from the streetlight they passed illuminated the glow of his eyes. “Imagine that,” then, as soon as the amusement had appeared, it was gone. “I don’t believe Kaitou Corbeau will lead you to the identity of your father’s killers. I have a different theory altogether –“ he abruptly stopped talking as he noticed Kaito was no longer following him. He turned around slightly to eye the magician. The fringes of his bangs dipped into his face, almost obscuring his gaze. There was a calculating gleam in his eye that sent a shiver down his spine.

Kaito felt frozen to his spot, his lips parted as though he was a fish gasping for air. “How long have you known?” he managed to strangle out of his throat. His stomach churned ever so slightly in a fit of panic.

“I’m a detective. What do you expect? Naturally I was curious as to your connection to the case. It was laughably simply to realize the connection between your father’s death and the disappearance of Kaitou KID in the same time period. The incompetence of the police force to not be able to connect the dots is astonishing.” He turned around, clearly not impressed by Kaito’s shock, as he kept walking. However there was a guarded tightness of his shoulders.

With a frustrated growl, the magician sprinted to catch up with himagain. His fist tightening on his side, the nails of his fingers biting into his palm almost painfully. Of course the detective would dig into the identity of his employer. What else could he have been expecting? Sleuths were notoriously noisy. He had simply not expecting that he would uncover his secret so quickly – not even Hakuba had dug into his past with such ease.

“Edogawa –“ he started, but was interrupting by Conan hushing him.

“Not now, we don’t know who are looking. I will meet you tomorrow. Ill text you the address,” he suddenly split from the group without looking, down a different street. “Keep walking and don’t look back.”

Kaito did as he was told, however he could not help taking a last look at the retreating detective before he vanished from view. He felt exhausted: he had gone through far too many complex emotions this evening. From excited, to disappointed, to terror of being discovered and shot by the cartel, to flabbergasted surprise at being seen through so meticulously. This was his third meeting with Edogawa Conan, yet he felt as though the detective knew everything about him. As though that mesmerizing gaze could see straight through to his soul.

Once again he parted a meeting with Conan with more questions than before. However, that was a problem for tomorrow. He wanted to lay down and sleep for twelve hours. He could deal with the crushing disappointment tomorrow that the meeting with Corbeau had crashed and burned spectacularly. Before he could wallow in the spiral of hopeless depression, he realized that, before he had interrupted him, Conan had mentioned a plan B. What had once been defeat, now blossomed with continued hope – the same hope he had had leaving the agency two weeks prior.

He could not help the spring in his step as he continued down the road.

It was only once he returned to the hotel that he remembered the pouch Corbeau had thrown him – and that only because upon collapsing on the bed, he felt it digging into his side. Begruntled, he was forced to sit up as he dug into the pocket. The pouch was made of light brown, fake leather, with a glittering lace tied around it. He pulled on the lace, and his mouth parted in surprise.

Not believing the sight, he turned the contents inside out, as a golden jewellery with a large stone fell heavily into his hand. It was the Betrayed Heart. It was just as beautiful as it had looked behind the glass panel. Corbeau had given him it, but why?

He placed it gently back into the pouch and retied it before putting it on the counter. He wrestled himself out of his clothing and collapsed back into the bed. It was something he could worry about tomorrow. The last thing he saw before being torn into oblivion was the pouch gleaming on his night table.

…

The jingle of spoons against porcelain set his teeth on edge as he checked his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. Immediately upon returning to his hotel room, he had passed out in a dreamless slumber. When he awoke, he had a message from Conan on his phone. The address brought him to a café. It was modestly crowded, a few couples on the rounded tables, a larger group of rowdy men occupied several tables in the left corner. They looked hungover and nursed their coffee and large breakfast. Most likely on a bachelor party to Las Vegas or something similar.

There was a couple sitting on the adjacent table, they whispered amongst themselves in panic tones. From the way they kept staring at their ring finger with a flabbergasted expression, he assumed they most likely accidentally gotten married whilst blackout drunk.

Focusing back on the cup clutched between his palms, he barely managed to keep from shaking his head in exasperation. The foolishness of tourists in this city never stopped surprising him.

He checked his phone again. Conan was twenty minutes late, and he couldn’t help for the growing unease that had settled in his stomach. What if the cartel had figured out the detective had lied to them? If anything happened to him because of Kaito, he would never forgive himself. He was the one who had asked for help after all.

The second reason he felt such on edge, was the slowly falling of the snow visible through the windows. The swirling of the white flakes would have, if he was someone else, seem completely innocent. An idyllic picture. Instead, it filled him with dread and put his teeth on edge. Why was it snowing again?

The day was just getting worse and worse, he thought silently as he forced his gaze away from the view. He took a sip of his cooling coffee.

The chiming of a small bell had him immediately focusing on the door. He had been doing that for the past thirty minutes since he sat down. So far, he had been disappointed. The figure that stepped into the café was heavily clothed. He wore a midnight blue coat, and a dark-brown beret cap obscured his facial features. He spent a few seconds brushing the snow that laid heavy on his clothes away with elegant movements. Once he removed the cap to shake it, Kaito recognized him as Edogawa Conan.

The blush on his cheeks had spread to his nose and ears – and indication of the coldness outside. The rest of his face looked paler than usual, and he had dark rings around his eyes. As their gazes met, the detective nodded to him courtly before making his way over.

He could not help but notice that the detective was wearing red sneakers – they did not seem appropriate for the weather. Despite the colour clashing with the rest of the outfit, it somehow did fit him.

Kaito sat up, a hand automatically reaching to his collar to smooth the wrinkles of his sweater he was sure must have appeared in his slouched position. The moment he realized what he was doing, he let his hand drop in confusion – wondering why his first instinct was to groom himself. Maybe because Conan always looked so clean and proper.

“Afternoon, Kuroba,” Conan greeted him as he grabbed the closest chair and sank into it. Before Kaito had any chance of replying, he had already grasped the elbow of a passing waitress. “May I bother you for a cup of green tea, Marlene?”

The waitress, an older woman with ginger hair – although her temple was littered with greying hair, and smiling wrinkles around her eyes, she was attractive – smiled warmly at the youth. “Of course Conan, coming right up.”

“I didn’t take you for a green tea kind of person,” Kaito looked back at him in surprise, “I wagered you for a coffee drinker.”

The detective gave a one shouldered shrug as he placed his beret next to him on the table and started to wrestle himself out of his jacket. “I’ve already had far too much coffee this morning. Some green tea is perfect for warming my bones after walking around in this cold weather.”

“Ah, that’s a fair point,” he didn’t really have a reply to that.

“I do apologies for my tardiness,” Conan continued without missing a beat. “I had some loose ends to tie up from yesterday.”

Kaito felt a shiver run down his spine, and he took a quick look around before leaning in to whisper with a small voice. “Are there any problems?”

Conan waved a hand dismissively, and the small grin curling on his lip soothed the magician’s nerves almost immediately. “Nothing of the sorts. I can handle Mr. Guzmán. We have a,” for a moment there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, before he lifted his chin and the glare of his glasses obscured his expression, “professional understanding.”

Kaito shifted a little on his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He could sense that the detective was not interested in continuing this particular line of discussion – and although he was filled with so many questions, he found it the wiser option to drop it for the time being.

Marlene appeared by the table as though summoned, she placed a porcelain cup with a flower decor next to Conan’s elbow. There was a short exchange of pleasantries before she left for another table. The detective turned back to gaze at him.

“May I query a personal question?” Conan lifted up his tea and took a small sip of his hot beverage. His face was relaxed with a pleasant expression, showing no indication of malicious intent.

“Sure,” he replied, wondering what he could possibly wonder about. “Although I keep my right to not answer if I don’t want to.”

A small smile curled in the corner of Conan’s lips. “Naturally,” he placed the cup gently back on the saucer. “It’s about your accent. Out of professional curiosity, I made my dutifully research of your background. I saw some videos from your show,” Kaito barely managed to keep down the blush threatening to creep up from his collar at the notion that Conan had watched some of his performances, “your control of your voice is, if I may say, admirable. You are quite a talented ventriloquist.”

He scratched his cheek embarrassed at the unexpected compliment. “I’d like to think I’m adequate. That is not a question though,” he added as an afterthought.

Conan brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, and the skin around his eyes twitched a little in amusement. “Considering your expertise with controlling your voice, why do you insist on speaking English with an accent? Doesn’t seem entirely necessary when you can choose not to.”

Kaito could not keep the flicker of a grin from starting to grow on his face in delight. No one had ever asked him that before, rather just made the assumption that he couldn’t. “For the audience of course,” he dropped his Japanese accent as he continued, “it gives the pretence of being exotic. From a different country with different tradition of magic. It is a cheap way of creating a magical atmosphere: a promise of showing them something new.” He picked up his spoon and clinked it against his cup. “They see my nationality and makes expectations. The performance art is to live up to said expectations. What is a man to do, deny the audience? Nay, I’ll take my natural advantages. You’d be surprised how many American born Magicians fake an accent.”

Through his explanation, Conan’s expression had grown from surprise to calculating to admiring. A genuine smile had parted his mouth. “I admit. That is not the explanation I was expecting. However, I am pleased by it.” He took another sip of his tea. “I must say, we are surprisingly similar. I have discarded my accent due to the opposite problem. My clients see a foreigner: if I were to speak as strange as I look, there would be an automatically unbidden distrust. If I sound native, they won’t have the same prejudice.”

Now it was Kaito’s turn to stare at him in surprise. He did not know what expression his face showed, however he had an inkling it mirrored that of the detective. “I guess we are not as different as we thought,” he adopted his previous accented voice with the response.

“Human psychology rarely differs,” Conan replied with a smirk. The expression made his eyes twinkle with mischief. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“Do you mind the same courtesy? I too have a personal question to ask.”

The detective made a motion of his hand to indicate for him to continue, however the humour died out in his face that indicated that he too reserved the right to refuse to answer.

“Your melancholic description of soulmates. I have a feeling there is something with it.”

To his surprise, Conan evaded his gaze: deciding to stare down into his cup instead. A throbbing silence fell upon them for a moment, and Kaito resigned himself for the question to be unanswered. He took several sips of his coffee, and he barely managed to keep from grimacing at the bitterness now that it had cooled.

“I have a friend who lost their soulmate,” the detective started with a slow voice, to Kaito’s utter shock. He had not expected a reply. “It was such a generic phrase. Impossible to know. Stupid really. But at the time, she said she felt herself filled with dread as she watched him disappear around a corner. Like she knew it was the last time she would ever see him. She was frozen, unable to say or do anything to stop him. Perhaps she thought it was just her imagination.”

Kaito pressed the palm of his hands into his thigh, the fingers digging in almost painfully. Conan refused to meet his gaze as he talked, seemingly staring into nothing as his voice was filled with clear sorrow.

“It took a while. A long while before she acknowledged what had truly happened. The body was never uncovered,” a small, humourless smile appeared strained on his face. “He was a fool. He always ran headfirst into danger, not considering the fact he could get hurt, or the people he would leave behind if something happened to him.”

He didn’t dare interrupt him. The detective seemed lost to another world. Where it was just himself and the grief. He suddenly snapped out of it, and his attention snapped to Kaito’s face.

“I’ve seen what it has done first handed. What it’s like to be selfish and only be thinking about yourself. It’s not fair: soulmarks that is. You are bounded to one person, someone you can accidentally hurt or kill by your own selfish nature. The world isn’t kind. There is no happily ever after. That’s what the soulmarks indicate. Regardless of how noble or cruel your intentions are, we are all humble to faith.”

This was the longest he had ever heard Conan speak. He seemed almost ferocious in his statement. Whoever these people had been, they had meant a great deal to him. Had helped form a lot of his beliefs and values.

“They never confessed you know. Their love for each other. Always too afraid of rejection, thinking they had all the time in the world. They’ve taught me that there is no point in being a coward or being cautious. Always strive for what you desire and never hold back. I do this work, because I want to help where I can. No one should live without answers, the world is too short to be depressed over the wrong reasons.”

Kaito swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He had not believed Conan’s convictions to be so strong. It told him a lot about him as a person, and he could not help admire his maturity at such a young age. He had been correct in his previous considerations, that the detective had seen a lot of horrible things due to his vocation.

“I’m sorry I asked,” he managed to croak out through the lump in his throat. “I didn’t think it was so… personal.”

“I’m not,” he took a large sip of his tea. “You asked: I wouldn’t have replied if I minded. I did a thorough and professional research of your past, the least I can do is answer one personal question. It is only fair.”

“I suppose so,” he brought his hand back on top of the table, and absentmindedly fingered with the cutlery. “I wasn’t expecting much, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

He parted his lips to reply to one of the things Conan had said, however his conversational partner had already moved on – most likely not interested in elaborating. There had been enough personal reveal for the afternoon. The dynamic of their relationship was that of a client and detective, nothing more.

“About the case. I don’t believe the answer to your investigation to be the identity of Kaitou Corbeau. He is most likely going to go underground after the whole ordeal yesterday. There is no point to wait for the unlikely event that the thief will stay in Las Vegas. If I was him I would get out of dodge and travel to a different country for the next heist.”

The sudden change in topic gave him a whiplash, and all he could do was to dimly nod. “What do you suggest I do then?”

“Having scoured over the old police file of your father’s death, I’m surprised the case was declared an accident. Either the investigators were incompetent, or the individuals responsible has ties to the police force. The latter creates a dangerous precedence.”

“What if a member of the police was involved?”

Conan considered his suggestion for a brief moment, “not impossible. However it’s been over twenty years. It is highly unlikely they are still working for the police. No point speculating on something that is impossible to prove.”

Kaito nodded in response, it was a fair enough notion that he could agree with.

“Your father’s death must have something to do with him being Kaitou KID, and that he stole something from the wrong parties. It is highly quite unlikely that he was murdered out of jealousy by a different magician after all, so that theory was discarded without any second thought. Back to the first scenario, considering your father’s tendency of returning the items he stole – I have a theory about that by the way. Toichi was looking for something specific wasn’t he?”

He could not help but stiffen ever so slightly at the question. At this point, he honestly shouldn’t be surprised at anything. Conan had already proven himself to be quite brilliant. He gave a short nod of his head in response, before parting his lips in hesitation. He wondered how much he should reveal, however the detective continued talking – perhaps not caring for an answer, or perhaps he could tell his hesitation.

“You don’t have to share information if you don’t want to. I’m sure I’ll figure it out sooner or later,” he gave him a sly smirk and a wink. Before his face turned serious again. “Rather than focusing on Corbeau’s current cases, I want to look into the cold cases of Kaitou KID. I have close connections to the rival of KID, the man who gave him his name. He might know where we should start looking. Furthermore, if the individuals behind the assassination had connection within the police force, we are in our right to assume that there must be a larger criminal organization at play. I have some contacts I can reach out to. It is safe to believe someone should have heard of it. I have some theories.”

Conan turned to root through the pocket of his jacket. Kaito felt his pulse quicken in excitement. He had only originally employed him to find Corbeau – the fact the detective was willing to go over and beyond his duties, had Kaito’s chest throb in gratitude. He would never be able to do this alone if Conan’s theories was correct. It would explain why he had not gotten very far despite investigating the case quietly for fifteen years.

Part of him wanted to tell him everything he knew, wanted to trust him – however a voice in the back of his mind told him to be careful. He knew very little about the detective and his background aside from the fact he was from Tokyo. He also seem to have a lot of connections to the criminal underworld. Could he really trust him with everything? He bit his lip in indecision.

Conan pulled out a handful of crisp dollars and placed it on the table. “I’ve enjoyed our chat, but I must be going. I have a lot more to do before evening. I will contact you when I learn something more,” he stood from his seat and started to wrestle with his jacket.

“Wait, before you leave,” Kaito withdrew the pouch he had received from Corbeau yesterday from his chest pocket. He slide it over the table. “I forgot to hand you this yesterday. With the adrenaline and the quick succession of events it slipped my mind.”

Conan started at the pouch with surprise and curiosity. With only a brief pause of hesitation, he picked it up. He loosened the lace enough to peer inside. His eyes widened in shock, and he immediately tightened the lace as he peered around to make sure no one else saw it, before staring back at Kaito.

His eyes were brightened with calculations. “How did you get this?”

Kaito leaned back on his chair, and couldn’t hid the smirk twitching in the corner of his lips. “Corbeau gave it to me. I hope it lets you off the hook with the cartel.”

He tilted his head slightly, a smile tugged on his face. “It will certainly help.” He slid the pouch into a breast pocket, now out of sight. “You could have kept yourself it you know. Everyone would be none the wiser or batted an eye. The Cartel certainly wouldn’t advertise the theft to anyone – it would be an embarrassment. The jewel would have made a sweet penny on the black market. Well. That’s not entirely true. It’s worth millions to the right buyers.”

Kaito simply shrugged at the suggestion and crossed his arms. “I have no need for heaps of money. I would rather keep my moral values. I make enough to be comfortable, and I love my job. Don’t need any more in life. What would I possibly do with three houses, five cars and a boat? I hate the ocean. It’s filled with fish.”

A short, thrilling laughter escaped Conan. His eyes glittered with humour as he shook his head slightly – Kaito’s heart fluttered ever so slightly at the sound and the expression made his insides melt. “You are one of the better ones, Mr. Kuroba. Not many would decline such an opportunity.” He picked up the beret from the table and placed it on his head. “Good afternoon,” he nodded as he turned to leave.

“Kaito,” he interrupted him, feeling a little out of breath. “You quite possibly saved my life yesterday, I’d like to think that earns you to be on first name basis.”

Conan turned his head to look at him through his eyelashes. A smile was apparent on his lips. “Good afternoon, Kaito,” he corrected himself as he left.

…

“Yes, Aoko. I’m sure. I’m doing alright,” Kaito mumbled into the mobile phone clutched between his shoulder and ear. He was trying to juggle a newspaper, a recyclable cup of coffee, and his wallet as he paid the street vendor.

The wind was nippy against his cheek, but it had not snowed for a few days since their meeting at the café. He managed to wrestle his wallet back into his pocket without dropping any of his items.

_“I know you aren’t lonely over there with all your old friends. But you cannot blame us for worrying about your wellbeing. You kind of just dropped everything and left. You missed Yukio’s birthday yesterday, you know.”_

He closed his eyes as the realization washed through him, and he groaned softly to himself. How had he forgotten about that? “Fuck, was he disappointed I wasn’t there? I promise I’ll make it up to him. Is he there, can I talk to him?”

Aoko sighed into the phone, “ _it’s in the middle of the night here: he is obviously asleep. He is a resilient kid, he will understand that his uncle is halfway across the world on some important business_.”

Regardless of her words, he could not help the feeling of guilt wrecking his insides. Yukio was a good kid, and despite not being biologically his uncle, he appreciated that Aoko and Hakuba allowed him the title.

“I’ll give him the grandest magic performance he has ever seen when I return,” he promised.

Aoko’s amused laughter washed over him. “ _We will keep you to that,”_ she then turned serious as she continued. “ _You stay safe alright? It’s been over a month already, we all miss you.”_

“I wouldn’t dare otherwise. You’d beat my arse if something happened to me,” he replied with good humour, and the roll of her eyes were almost audible through the phone. He didn’t catch her answer as a truck drove past. The water on the pavement splashed over the bystanders, and he only barley managed to dodge it in time.

The older woman in front of him swore loudly as she caught the brute of the water. She started to pat the water away from her expensive fur coat with angry movements. A gaggle of kids ran through the crowd, seeming to play catch. One of the boys, one with dirty blond hair and a crooked smile accidentally brushed past her. He halfway turned to shout an apology without stopping.

On instinct Kaito reached out, grabbing the boy’s arm as he tried passing. Without stopping, he dragged him down the closest alleyway.

“I’ll call you back Aoko: there is something I have to deal with,” he closed the call without waiting for a reply and dropped it into his inner jacket pocket. He turned towards the kid with a scrutinizing and disappointed look.

The boy had his hands up, his fingers curling into a half fist. It didn’t seem like he had decided whether he needed to put up a fight or show he was defenceless. “What the fuck man. You can’t just drag someone off the street. Try anything, and I will scream.” The bangs of his dirty blond hair dipped into his face, forcing him to blow at the fringes to keep them from obscuring his eyesight. He had a scar stretching from his left eyebrow and disappeared into his hairline. His eyes were a murky green with splotches of brown. His lips were curled downwards in anger, however there was a tightness of the skin around his eyes that indicated his fear.

“Scream all you want,” Kaito dismissed his threat, “if you attract the police, I will just show them this.” With a flicker of his hand he held a wallet in his right hand. It was made of red leather and decorated with a large symbol from an expensive fashion brand. It was also clearly feminine. He had taken it from the teen as he pushed him into the alley.

“I hardly think this belong to you.”

The boy’s face fell, and his lips pursed. “Don’t know where that came from. Must have fallen into my pocket as I ran past someone.”

“Uh huh,” Kaito said doubtfully, an eyebrow lifting to show his clear disbelief. “You are a terrible liar, and an even worse thief.”

“Sir, I’m not lying –“

“Spare me, I don’t have time for this,” he interrupted him. “I’ll return this to the owner, however you need to go home and get your shit together. I won’t turn you in this time, but if you continue on this path, you are going to be caught again sooner or later. You will get a record. You really do not want to waste away your life in prison, kid.”

The teen crossed his arms, his face now showing hostility. “You don’t know anything about my life. I need to do this to survive. I don’t have a home to return to.”

“Everyone has a home. Even if it’s a shitty one, even if it’s a place you only make your home. If you need money, get a job, don’t steal. Stealing will help with nothing. Warping your sense of mortality because you think you are in your right, will create a dangerous precedence for the future. If you can get away with one small thing, then what else can you get away with? It’s a slippery slope to sacrifice your moral values,” he tried keeping his tone civil, however a slip of anger leaked through his voice as he stared him down. “Life ain’t supposed to be all nice and dandy. Everyone struggles, it’s up to the individual to whether or not they choose the right or the wrong way to deal with it.”

He stepped back, and turned his head away. He tried to wrangle the anger back where it came from. He had almost sacrificed his moral and ethical values and taken up his father’s mantle. It would have been such an easy solution – however he couldn’t do that to the ones he loved. Didn’t want to keep secrets and lie. What if he was caught? He would have ruined his life – or even worse, what if he hadn’t been caught? What else could he get away with in the future? Murder? No, he didn’t dare think about it.

“What’s your plans, kid? Drop out of school and join a gang, maybe the mafia? You will either be caught or knifed by a rivalling gang. I know you have no reason to listen to me or even care. But you have been caught once, you will be caught again. Whether by the police or someone worse. Get your shit together.”

The kid did not look phased as he glared back, “the mafia would be a preference to my foster parents,” he sneered.

“If you want your life to change, then work for it. Don’t just sit down and feel sorry for yourself. Sure, life sucks right now – I don’t know if you are being abused at home, but turning to a life of crime is not the answer. I practically raised myself, and I’m still a good person. The philosopher Sartre once said, the environment you grow up in doesn’t define who you are as a person, you are the only one who can choose what is important to you. You are the master of your faith. Sure, you might not have any option right now, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to dream of something better. You have two choices, be what everyone say you are, or work for what you want your life to be.”

He turned to leave, he had nothing more to say to the teen. As he turned the corner, he heard the kid yell after him.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? You can’t possibly understand.”

Before he vanished from view, he stopped for a second and turned his face to gaze at him with a heavy expression.

“Someone who almost made the same mistakes you have.”


	3. The Blue Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Published: 05.08.2020
> 
> Word count: 7076

The neon lights of the nightlight of Fremont street was still shinning, although not blindingly, despite the early afternoon. The crowd was mostly that of casual tourists, the residents out for lunch, and families. A group of children was dancing from street light to street light while parents looked upon fondly.

“Are you Kuroba Kaito?” a small, feminine voice asked him in Japanese.

In surprise, he turned around to gaze down at a young girl. She seemed to be around eight or nine. She wore a red cap with bold letters reading ‘Las Vegas’. She wore a pink skirt above thick, green pants and a yellow jacket. Whoever had dressed her must be colour-blind, he thought amusingly.

Behind her, her father bowed at him and muttered an apology in English, “forgive our interruption, sir.” Both of them looked Japanese.

Kaito felt a rush of affection at someone from his home country, he had already forgotten how much more polite the Japanese were in comparison to the brutish Americans. He gave them a heart-warming smile, and replied back In Japanese. “Nothing to apologize for,” he crouched down so he was on the same height length as the girl.

“You are right, I am Kuroba Kaito, Magician Extraordinaire. And what is this princess’ name?” he held out his hand, and from between his fingers a rose sprouted. He handed it to her.

The girl giggled as she accepted the flower. “I’m Misaki. I thought it was you! I saw you perform in Tokyo a few months ago. How come you are here?”

The father grabbed Misaki’s shoulder to, and with a strained smile muttered to her, “don’t bother the gentleman –“

“I’m not bothered,” Kaito interrupted him while still smiling warmly. He could never refuse an adoring fan. “I’m just here visiting some friends and gaining some inspiration for my next performance. I hope you will come.”

Misaki nodded sharply with a grin, “I’ll be there! Providing dad will allow me,” she turned to stare at him with a pleading expression.

The father expression softened, his entire face glowed with expression, “of course we will, anything for my little princess.”

“Can I have a picture with you, pretty please?” she turned back to Kaito with an excited expression. “I want to become a magician just like you one day! Do you have any tips?”

Kaito agreed to the picture full-heartedly, and he looped an arm around her shoulder and stuck his hand out and had another rose appear from his fingers. “As long as you practice and believe in yourself, you can achieve anything.”

As he spoke, his eyes automatically darted to a scribbling that peaked up from underneath her collarbone as she moved – the fabric of her shirt shifted enough that he could read the words without meaning to. A cold shiver filled him at the realization – the words “magician extraordinaire” was written on her clear as day.

As he waved them goodbye, the words stuck to him, leaving him with a heavy feeling in his chest. This girl, Misaki, must not realize that gravity of the words. Her soulmate, or perhaps herself, would one day be a magician. Yet instead of running away from it, she was embracing it. Running towards it in childlike curiosity. One day she would realize the horror of the meaning behind it.

Kaito had known what his mark had meant as long as he could remember. Why he had always hated snow, as the sight of it reminded that he would lose his in the falling of the snow. Perhaps the parents didn’t want her to worry yet – he couldn’t possibly know, however he could not keep from feeling sorry for her. He wondered if she would grow up hating magic, knowing the truth.

He turned around and headed towards a familiar alleyway. He made sure no one was watching as he disappeared across the corner. Approaching the door at the end of the alley, he gave the secret knock on the door. A second later, the peephole opened, and the bouncer stared down at him. A second later, the door opened.

Immediately, the warmth from the inside chased away the coldness of his bones that had settled after seeing the words. He felt his shoulders relax ever so slightly as the murmur of the usual crowd, and the jazz music wafted towards him. A group of people he recognized waved in greeting as he entered, but he did not approach as a voice suddenly called to him.

“Can I ask for a favour?”

Kaito had barely gotten through the door before Kenya spoke up from behind his counter. The bartender was cleaning a glass with a towel, but as the magician turned towards him, he placed it down out of view. Kenya wore a serious expression, his lips dipping downwards in worry. It was a clear difference from the usual smiley and good humoured man, immediately putting Kaito on edge.

He approached the bar while loosening the scarf around his neck. He slid into the closest chair. “What can I do for you Kenya?”

The bartender licked his lips, glanced around before leaning over the counter. “Do you remember Jim Barnett? A second rate magician, he used to frequent the Herrmann a lot. However I haven’t seen him in weeks. I’m afraid he is in trouble,” he hesitated for a second, but decided to be truthful,” he is addicted to gambling. Constantly being caught for cheating. Been thrown out of most casinos and games. He started to join those dangerous ones in the backrooms.”

Kaito nodded a little at the story. He could not remember the face, however the name sounded familiar. He was not surprised, a lot of magicians were banned from playing at most casinos due to their nature of counting cards. However there were some card games that allowed counting and cheating – the trick was to not be caught. If everyone was cheating it was fair – at least that was the idea. It was an only on invitation kind of event, and they were rarely legal.

“Do you mind I ask why you are specifically asking me for help? I’m sure there are lot more competent people you could ask instead.”

A lopsided smile spread on Kenya’s face, and he scratched his head in embarrassment. “You haven’t lived in Las Vegas for a while, so you can easier go under the radio. Secondly, I heard rumours that Barnett has been seen to frequent the bar known as the Blue Dragon.”

Kaito furrowed his eyebrows, trying to recall why that name sounded familiar. “What’s so special about it?”

This time, he wouldn’t meet his eyes, as he suddenly got busy picking up the glass he had misplaced earlier. “Well, you see. It’s owned by the Shimada. Which you know, they have ties to the Yakuza,” he coughed into his arm as he mumbled out the last bit.

Kaito tried not to gawk at him. “The Yakuza?” he hissed as he leaned closer. “You want me to go look for Barnett because I’m Japanese is that why? That’s a bit racist don’t you think?”

Kenya paled at the accusation, and he hung his head slightly in defeat. “Yeah, I didn’t know who else to ask. Just – never mind. It was dumb suggestion. Just forget I said anything.”

He sighed and sat back on his seat. “I don’t think I can. You asked, I owe you a favour after the ordeal with Victoire a few years ago. Give me a shot before I go though. I’ll go see if he’s still alive.”

Kenya immediately perked up and nodded. “Of course, thank you!” he turned towards the bottle behind the bar, picked one from the tallest shelf, before swirling around. He was now wearing a relieved smile as he poured the drink.

Kaito accepted the drink, lifted it up towards him, and then downed his drink. He had a churning feeling in his stomach that he would live to regret this.

…

The Blue Dragon was more of a dancing club than a bar. The advertisement of its name read in big block letters and neon lights. A classical blue dragon curled around the words. The building itself seemed to be in disrepair, with scaling paint and littered with graffiti. Despite the shabby exterior, the queues to get inside were filled to the brim with a mixture of scarcely clad women – how they weren’t freezing their arse off was beyond Kaito’s understanding – well-dressed men, and some gentlemen who looked rather shady.

Kaito waited dutifully in the queue, shivering into his white jacket and lifted the scarf to cover his mouth. A young, blond woman with far too much make up stared at him from underneath her eyelashes. The greyness of her eyes seemed almost like liquid silver due to her eyeshadow.

The moment their eyes met, she huddled up to him, linking her arm around her. “Well, hello handsome,” she cooed with a sugar sweet voice, “you here alone?”

Her overly sweet perfume wafted around him and he had to physically keep himself from gagging. “I’m here to see a friend,” he replied stiffly.

She didn’t seem deterred by the knowledge to Kaito’s chagrin, as she simply just tried to push herself closer, most likely to seep his body warmth. “Some more company is always nice. The more the merrier I always say,”

Kaito tried to step away, however she only followed him. Annoyance started to bubble in his chest, “I think you are barking up the wrong tree, lady.”

“It’s Tiffany, not lady,” she looked at him coyly through her eyelashes. She was so close enough that he could count every single lashes, and see the glitter of her blue eyeshadow. “I like older men, they have more experience.”

He froze at being called old, and stared down at her in shock. “How old do I think I am?”

She gave a one shouldered shrug. “Mid-thirties maybe? It’s not easy to tell with you Asians. I like it though, always look so young and exotic.”

Kaito had finally had enough and shrugged her off with an annoyed expression. “For the next time, don’t insult the guy you are trying to flirt with. Secondly, I’m not interested. You are not my type.”

Tiffany didn’t budge, only stared at him with a narrowed expression. “What do you mean? I’m everyone’s type. If you liked red heads I can easily put on a wig. It shouldn’t deter you from having a little bit of fun –“

“That’s not what I meant,” he interrupted him, his lips curling upwards in an expression of glee. “I’m not interested in women: I’m gay.”

Her mouth popped upon in surprise at the revelation. “Oh,” she took a step back. “Oh,” she repeated for effect. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” she then started to dig into her purse. “You are just really attractive, you know? Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She gave him a quick, longing grin. “Why are the good ones always gay?”

From her wallet she withdrew a small, rectangular card. “I work as a model for an underwear agency. I’m actually here with some other girls to scout for some Japanese models as our organization is trying to branch out to Japan. If you are interested and need a job,” she handed it to him. “Don’t hesitate to call.”

He stared down at the card in surprise. That was not what he had been expecting. Almost gingerly he accepted the card. “I will erh – keep it in mind.”

Tiffany gave him an appreciative smile. “Sorry for coming on so strong. Usually my gay-dar is superb.” She then disappeared into the crowd.

Kaito stared after her, then back at the card before slipping it into an available pocket. That sure was some strange advertising technique – he was sure some men would have fallen easily for her feminine charm. It felt a bit tasteless, and he had not enjoyed the come on. However he couldn’t help but feel flattered.

The bodyguard in front of the queue was a tall, buff man. The muscles of his arms bulged under his shirt as he crossed his arms. The tail of a dragoon tattoo peaked out under the shirt. He had a trimmed goatee and shaved head. His eyes slid to Kaito once he was in the front of the queue, before looking away and simply pointing him to the entrance with his thumb.

“Back door,” he grunted, already dismissing him in favour of the next person in line.

Taking the hint, Kaito walked inside – he wondered slightly if he was let in so easier because he was mistaken for a member of the Yakuza, or as one of the shady looking individuals that was most likely here for the card games. Regardless, he did not make a comment on it.

The moment he stepped through the door, he was met with the blasting of music and blinking, neon lights. The room was filled with dancing and sweaty bodies. He loosened his scarf as the temperature was hot and humid inside. All the waiters he noted wore the same professional outfit – white shirt underneath a black vest. They were also all Japanese.

Looking around the room, he noticed in the very back there was an area with no dancing bodies. Instead there was a door with a bodyguard standing in front of it. He seemed to be arguing with another man. Kaito decided to approach.

As he disappeared into the crowd of dancing bodies, he had to evade being grinded up on and drinks being spilled on his shirt. It was a few minutes of struggles before he managed to escape safely to the other side, thankfully unscathed.

“Come on, you know I’m good for it,” the man in front of him pleaded. “Just ask Genji. You know, the brother of your boss?”

The bodyguard didn’t blink an eye nor did he budge. “You know the rules, Mr. Barnett. If you can’t cover the entrée fee, you can’t play.”

“How am I supposed to pay my debts to them if I can’t play,” he growled underneath his breath, once again trying to get around the guard. The guard simply held out an arm to block his path, looking too stoic and bored to even bother glaring at him. He must be used to difficult patrons.

Kaito grabbed Barnett’s shoulder before he could do anything irrational – like assaulting the guard. The man turned around quickly with wild eyes. His dark hair was a spiky mess, and the roots of his original hair colour showed. He had dark circles around his eyes, and a tactless tattoo of a spade underneath his right eye. His attire looked crumbled, as though he had been sleeping in it for days. The first thing that Kaito noticed, was his blown-out pupils. He must be on some kind of substance, he thought silently.

“Let’s not make a fuzz and get you some water,” Kaito mumbled to him, as he practically dragged him away from the door. He not so gently showed him into an empty booth, told him to sit still and left to get some water. It took him another few minutes before he managed to return due to the long queues and the crowded dancing floor.

He was relieved to see that Barnett hadn’t moved an inch, rather he seemed to have slumped into himself. Arms on the table and his face resting on them as though he had fallen unconscious on the spot. Only once Kaito was seated and nudged the glass against his cheek, did the other man stir. He accepted the glass gingerly, took a large swig, before looking at Kaito over the counter.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Your friend Kenya sent me,” he replied conversationally, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

“Kenya did?” he mumbled something more into his glass, before squinting suspiciously. “Why is he meddling with my business again? His sister dumped me ages ago.”

Kaito gave a one shouldered shrug, “he was worried about you. Said he hadn’t seen you for a while, and you might be in trouble. Looking at you currently, I’d gather a guess he was right.”

Barnett grumbled, “none of his business. I do what I want. Although,” he paused for a second. “You wouldn’t have some money on you would you? Just need 250 dollars to get through the door. I’ll make it back to you, promise.”

He gave a toothless grin in reply, “I don’t think so.”

The man slumbered back on his seat even further, “in that case I have no need for any help. Thanks for trying, but you can return to Kenya and tell him to fuck off.”

“Why don’t you do that yourself? Tell him straight to his face that you don’t want anything to do with him.”

Barnett looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyelids were dipping down slowly as he seemed to strain himself trying to think through the exhausting haze and whatever substance he was on currently. “No, no. I’m busy. I need – I need to pay back the money I’ve lost. I need to get back to the game and win. Otherwise they might smash my kneecaps in,” as he finished the sentence, he started to wheeze with uncontrollable giggles. “You know, in like – like, those old gangster movies.”

“I think,” he waited for him to stop wheezing and sit up, “what you currently need is a good night rest, and to get sober. You won’t win anything in your current condition. Perhaps tomorrow you will be more alert and can actually have a chance at winning.”

Barnett gaped at his logic, as though he hadn’t considered it, before shaking his head aggressively. “No, I can’t. It has to be tonight. It’s the big game, and I heard – heard that the scion himself is going to be at the location. If I can just talk to him, ask for an extension of the collection of my debt. I can do it, I just need a little more time.”

Kaito lifted an eyebrow, “how much do you own them?”

“Not much,” he refused to meet his eyes, “just around 10 grand give or take.”

He had a feeling he was lying, however he did not push the subject. Simply raked a hand through his hair. He could see why Kenya had been worried – the man was an utter mess and in deep, deep shit. That’s what addictions did to you: ruined your life as you followed it mindlessly. He needed help, and not the kind that Kaito could give. He was not entirely sure what he could or should do.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” Barnett continued after downing his glass of water. Looking once again wary.

“Kuroba Kaito, are your service,” he replied absentminded, forgetting that Americans put their surname last as he mulled over his options.

Barnett brightened up ever so slightly at the name. “Oh,” he said with a gasp, “like the magician? You are the son of the famous magician Toichi Kuroba aren’t you? Oh, this is brilliant,” he rubbed his hands together eagerly, as though he had spotted the goose that lay a golden egg. “You could join the game in my place. Pay my debt for me. Oh, yes. This will work splendidly. We will need to disguise you a little so they don’t recognize you immediately. They don’t really allow famous magicians to join, say they have an unfair advantage. Let’s see, what could we use to disguise you –“

“Hang on,” Kaito protested, “I haven’t agreed to anything. I’m definitely not participating in an illegal game –“

“It’s not illegal,” Barnett protested, a grin crawling across his face with renew vigour glittering in his eyes. “We are in the city of gambling, it’s legal here. The games are made for cheating, encouraged even. The only slightly shady about this all is the proprietors. Otherwise, completely innocent.”

He closed his mouth that had gaped open in shock. He supposed he had a point, regardless – “I still have no intention of gambling.”

“It’s not gambling: the whole game is to trick the rest of the table. It’s a battle of minds, not a game of chance. It’s not hard, see, I can teach you,” from out of a pocket he withdrew a deck of cards and tried to place them in Kaito’s hands. When he refused to turn his palms Bernett dropped them over the table instead.

“Stop it, I don’t have any reason to help you,” he gritted his teeth, feeling annoyance starting to bubble in his chest.

“You promised Kenya didn’t you?” he grinned at him, as though he had already won the argument. “I just need ten grand. Won’t take you long, I can tell you are a smart lad. You will earn it all back in no time, and I promise I’m out of the business. I’ll get sober and see Kenya again.”

Kaito groaned and curled his hand into a fist. This was a terrible idea, he knew, but as Barnett kept pleading for another few minutes, he eventually felt his resolve abandon him. It was not illegal to join the game, and taking some money from criminals certainly wasn’t ethically a bad thing, right? Especially if it was to keep Barnett from getting his kneecaps broken. It’s not like it was stealing. It was a game specifically made to cheat.

That was the logic behind how he found himself clad in a dodgy disguise an hour later. Small, round, black spectacles framed his nose, and a black wig brushed into his eyes. His scarf was tightly wrapped around his neck. His shirt was folded up to his elbow – it was a requirement to be able to play. Show your arms, but everything else was allowed. Only thing that was strictly forbidden was having the dealers part of your scam. That would get both kicked out and banned for life – with the latter said with a threatening growl that promised bodily harm if the rule was broken.

The room was surprisingly roomy, and it was brighter than the disco light of the club. The walls were soundproof enough that the music wasn’t audible except for the few moments when the front door was opened. The waiters and dealers were meticulously groomed, with the white shirt underneath a black vest. Some of the women wore matching skirts that reached down to their knees. Had Kaito not known better, he would have assumed he was at a business meeting and not in a gambling’s den.

It was the patrons that cut a stark difference between the stylish interior. Majority were in scantily clad clothes, some looked like Barnett: as though they had slept in their clothing for several days. However, some were stylishly clad. Some wore obvious disguises like Kaito, so bad that everyone was aware of it, but no one seemed to care. It was simply just a common occurrence. It was an odd difference between the players.

Kaito thrummed his fingers against his left held card, and then with a flicker of his other hand changed one of the cards. The movement of his fingers had been a distraction. Every couple of seconds, a referee walked past with falcon eyes, catching anyone who dared to be sloppy. One person of his table had already been disqualified.

“I raise,” he threw some chips into the pot, before bringing the hand back to drag underneath his nose as he faked sniffed. He had kept doing that motion the entire game, to pretend it was a liar’s tick. So far two of the other players – a woman in a purple wig, and an obese man with a thin moustache – stared at him intensely as they fell for the bait.

The obese man – who had only introduced himself as Gilbert, barely managed to hide a grin in the form of a twitch on his face that looked more like a seizure, as he threw some chips into the pot. “I raise,” the rumble of his voice sent a shiver down Kaito’s back. His eyes did not leave Kaito’s for even a moment.

The magician completely ignored him, as the next person on the table folded. His face was unmoving, however Kaito could tell his annoyance from the tightness of his shoulders – he had lost far more than he had won. He hazard a guess the man would quit sooner rather than later if he knew what was best for him.

Josephine, the woman in the purple wig, shifted her gaze from Kaito to Gilbert with a scrutinizing expression. With the fourth member out of the game, that left the three of them. She wrote Kaito off as a bluffer for this round, meaning that she had a fifty-fifty chance to win against Gilbert. She was looking for any kind of stress signs that indicated he was lying. She finally twitched her nose slightly, picked up some of the chips as she brushed them against her cards in attempt to distract people’s gazes – fortunately, Kaito did not took the bait as he noticed one of the cards disappear into her sleeve.

“I raise.”

As she placed the chips in the pot, her other hand quickly dragged the cards against her coat while everyone else was staring at the falling chips. A new card was now in her hand. She sat back with a pleased expression.

“Alright, all bets placed. The round is complete, show your cards,” the dealer said. She was a young woman, with dark eyes and even darker hair. She wore a white blouse over a black vest. Her eyes were cold and impassive as though she was bored.

Gilbert and Josephine laid down their cards in excitement, wearing a grin, however when they showed their cards, their excitement dimmed, as between them and the cards already on the board, there was five aces. One too many.

Kaito laid down his cards – a straight flush, and rolled his eyes. These people were morons, you shouldn’t aim to change to high cards: the chance were that some of the other players would do the same. There were easier ways to win.

The dealer didn’t bat an eye at the reveal, and replied with a monotone voice, “player three and four eliminated, the pot goes to number two.”

Kaito flickered a grin towards the affronted players, as he pulled the chips towards him – they glowered at him mendaciously. Even if they hadn’t messed up, he would have won with his straight flush. They clearly noticed they had misinterpreted his fake signs.

The rules were simple, if you are caught cheating by the referee, you are kicked from the game, if anyone has the same cards, then your contribution for that game doesn’t count – although you lost the money, however you get to keep playing. If everyone was eliminated, then the pot would stay until the next round. Not only did you have to not be caught, you also couldn’t accidentally use the same cards as anyone else. It was a chance of gambling, and Kaito could admit it was slightly thrilling.

They were dealt new cards, and he picked up his – barely managed to hide a grimace. These cards were even worse than the last ones. He could either fold this round, or try to change as many as he could without being caught – not impossible, but might not be worth the risk.

Suddenly Josephine’s chair was pushed backwards, and she fell on the floor with a loud bang. The room exploded in fake cards, extra chips, and a plastic cup. She moved her wig out of her eyes as it had shifted in the fall. She blinked up at one of the referees in shock as he growled.

“Disqualified.”

“But –“

“I saw that snap change. It was floppy.”

Her shoulders fell in defeat, and she threw the hand she was holding on the floor in anger. “Goddammit,” she picked up her stuff, snatched her wallet and left.

Kaito had not moved a muscle during the whole ordeal. He was lucky that the deck he had gotten from Barnett was identical to the ones that the club used. Otherwise a flimsy card deck would easily have disqualified him.

He followed the retreating woman through the crowd with his gaze, and suddenly froze in surprise. He spotted a familiar figure entering through the front door. The detective looked as groomed as ever, and his dark trench coat flapped at his chins almost lovingly. He removed his familiar beret, and it disappeared into a pocket on his jacket.

Immediately upon entering, one of the waitress approached him with a bow. There was an exchange of words he could not hear across the room. A taller man stepped into the room after Conan. He wore a grey fedora that obscured his eyes. A flush chin curtain beard framed his face. He wore an equally dark suit, with a black tie above a white shirt. He stood straight in a way that told Kaito the man had already counted all possible exits and threats in the room.

Conan followed the waitress down the split of the tables, the man following close behind. A bodyguard perhaps? Kaito wasn’t sure. The group disappeared into a door in the back.

“Do you bet or fold, Raoul-san?”

It took him a few seconds before he remembered it was the fake name he had entered the game under. Kaito’s attention snapped back to the dealer of his table. All the players stared at him with an impassive and impatient expression – someone had already filled the table from where Josephine had disappeared. He looked down on his card, and towards the pot on the table. He hesitated – on one hand he had the promise to Barnett, on the other… he was really curious what Conan was doing here.

This was the second criminal organization he had seen the detective involved with. He hardly doubted that the Cartel and the Yakuza were on friendly terms. What exactly was the connection between them and Conan? Was he hired by criminals for their dirty work?

Making a split second decision, he placed the cards on the table and threw the group a lopsided smile. “I fold. If you excuse me, I need to find the bathroom.” He practically bolted from the table as their attention turned away from him. He tried to not seem suspicious as he ventured down the room. As he approached the end, he looked around quickly, however no one seemed to be paying him any lick of attention.

Without hesitation, he slipped past the door and closed it behind him. The sound was suddenly deafeningly quiet. Gone was the murmur of a crowd and the classical music humming through hidden speakers. He had stepped into a brightly lit corridor, three doors littered the wall on his left. The right side mirrored the left. In the opposite end was a door slightly ajar.

He decided to approach on quiet steps. His insides churned in anticipation and fear – was he really doing this? It was one thing playing a game run by the Yakuza, another thing altogether snooping into their backrooms. If he was caught, who knows what would happen to him? He swallowed the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him.

Finally reaching the door, he peered through the gap, filled with curiosity.

Behind a desk, a finely groomed man was sitting. He wore a blue and black suit with a matching vest and a midnight blue tie. His hair was tied back, with an elegant lock of hair bouncing down his temple. He wore a serious expression, one that indicated that he was rarely prone to smiling. A short, trimmed beard framed his handsome face. The cloth around his arms tightened as he moved, conveying clearly restrained muscles. On his arm was an expensive wrist watch – one which Kaito could never hope to own in a million year. The colour of a tattoo peaked out from his shirt on his wrist.

Conan and his companion stood in front of the desk, the first one looking relaxed while the second man looked like he would like to drag the detective out of the establishment at any given moment. The rest of the room was decorated with tasty décor – a leather sofa, what looked like expensive paintings on the wall, and one or two Ming vases.

The whole conversation was held in Japanese.

“Are you certain you can reach her? It’s urgent,” Conan’s voice drifted towards him.

“Do not doubt our services, Edogawa-san,” the man behind the table replied, his voice dark and sent a shiver down Kaito’s spine. This was not a man one crossed lightly. His mind suddenly flashed to what Barnett had told him an hour earlier, that the scion would be visiting the establishment. Could this be him? “Vermouth-sama is a difficult woman to reach, but we will relay your message to her as soon as possible. You have my word.”

The detective nodded ever so slightly, however he did not seem particularly pleased. “I was under the assumption your connection reached further– “

The scion’s smile was biting cold as he interrupted, “it’s a delicate matter when you asked me to keep it from the usual channels. If I am to be certain your message reaches her ears only, it will take slightly longer. No need to criticize my operation.”

Kaito bit his lip – what sort of stone balls did Conan possessed in order to talk to a powerful member of the Yakuza, he had no idea. Just being in the presence of this individual set him on edge with a flight or fight reflex. This was not someone you wanted to cross, yet the detective did not flinch for a minute.

“Forgive me, but it has already been over a week. You cannot blame my impatience not having heard from neither you nor from her. Notify me of the situation next time, or else –“

“No need to make threats, Edogawa-san,” the scion’s face had not changed at all through the conversation. His eyes were cold and observing, like that of a lizard, and his small, pleasant smile had more teeth than a tiger. “I know exactly what you are capable of. My services are of course to your disposal.”

Conan shifted a little, before he gave a small bow. “Of course, I understand. Thank you for meeting me, I won’t take up much more of your time. Good evening,” he turned towards the door.

“I couldn’t refuse even if I wanted to,” came the smooth reply.

It suddenly occurred to Kaito he was alone in a corridor and standing in the only exit of the office. If he didn’t react swiftly, then everyone in the room would know he had been ease dropping. He quickly backed away from the door, feeling a shot of adrenaline soaring through him. His stomach churned in panic. He went to the first door he could reach – thankfully it was open and he quickly stepped into the room and closed the door behind him as quietly as he could.

He leaned against the door with a heavy breath. The room was pitch black, however from the light seeping through the gap at the bottom of the door, he could tell it was a storage room. To his right was a row of toilet papers and other toiletries. From the dark shape of what he assumed was a vacuum cleaner sat underneath the lowest row. On the other side, away from the light from the door, all he could see was undistinguishable blobs.

Suddenly, the door burst open behind him, and a hand grabbed his neck and threw him on the floor. Kaito stiffened, heart racing, wondering if this was it. They had caught him, he closed his eyes tightly ready for the bullet. He wondered if he would feel the pain, or if he would die instantly.

“Its fine Jigen, I know him,” a familiar voice came from above, and Kaito’s eyes popped open in surprise.

Standing over him was the detective, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief of seeing Kaito here. The tightening of the skin around his eyes indicated his disapproval. The bodyguard – whom he assumed was Jigen – was holding a gun towards him, but as Conan’s order clicked, he withdrew the firearm and it disappeared from view.

“It does make one question why you are snooping inside an establishment owned by the Yakuza,” Conan continued comradely.

Jigen helped Kaito to his feet, something which he was grateful for, as his heart was still racing quickly.

“I was looking for the bathroom,” the lie slipped out easily, however he could clearly tell that Conan did not believe him. Instead he smirked ever so slightly.

“Naturally. You never cease to surprise me. I thought you were above taking money from criminals.”

He gave a one shouldered shrug in response. “I’m not doing anything illegal. The games themselves are perfectly alright, even if the proprietors are slightly dodgy.”

Conan stared at him thoughtfully for several seconds, before holding out an arm towards the exist. “Shall we?”

He nodded in agreement as he turned to walk down the corridor. He practically could feel Jigen’s questionable stare drill into his shoulder blades. They stepped back into the player’s hall.

“I did not know you were interested in card games,” the detective continued amicably.

As Kaito turned around to look at him, he felt his stomach tingle ever so slightly at the calculating and questionable stare directed at him. He felt as though he was under a microscope, and that the detective was trying to figure him out.

“I work as a magician as a trade, it’s in my blood. Even a hobby magician usually start with a deck of cards. What is this game, if not the pinnacle of the trade. It’s not about getting away with cheating, but to successfully deceive your fellow trickster. The best takes it all.”

Conan cocked his head in thought, “how much have you won so far.”

A blush suddenly crawled up from his collarbone, and he stiffly pulled on his scarf in an effort to hide it. “A modest amount. Truth be told, gambling isn’t really for me. I wouldn’t be here if a friend of mine wasn’t in dire trouble. He owns the yakuza a considerable amount, and well… I’d rather keep him from bodily harm.”

The detective lifted an eyebrow, “is that so? So you are here for noble intent. A knight in white armour. It’s rare to find someone willing to get in trouble for the sake of a friend,” he paused for a moment, and suddenly a gleam glittered in his eyes almost mischievously. “What is the name of your friend?”

Kaito felt hesitant, he did not want any trouble to befall Barnett – he had after all promised Kenya to help him. During their conversation he had completely forgotten about the event he had overheard. Conan had some kind of ties with the Yakuza, however he doubted the detective had any ill-will towards a stranger.

“Jim Barnett, why?”

As he spoke, Conan turned towards Jigen, who towered almost threateningly above the smaller youth, and whispered something to him. The bodyguard – or whoever he was – gave a short nod and fished a phone out of his pocket. Conan turned to face Kaito once more.

“I have some agreements with them, I’m sure we can come to an agreement to erase his current debt. Providing he owes a favour, naturally.”

Kaito gaped at him like a fish, “you-you can do that?”

“Sure, why not,” Conan started to walk again, and Kaito quickly ran after him to catch up. “As long as he promise to stay away from the games – they tend to be rather addictive, I think we can do that much for him. Means you don’t need to get involved any further. The games themselves are innocent enough, but there are a lot of dangerous things happening in the background. Rather not get the innocent involved with situations that are unavoidable.”

He barely managed to keep his mouth closed. Relief was flooding through him – this was the second time so far Conan had bailed him out of trouble. “You are right about that. I mean, thank you for the help. It would mean a lot. How can I ever repay you?”

Conan waved a hand dismissively, “no need to thank me. We all do the occasional favours out of pity. As I’m sure you are familiar.”

Kaito stopped in his tracked, his stomach churning in confusion. “How did you know –“

“Elementary, your voice was dripping with annoyance when you mentioned his name. If he was an actual friend of yours, you would sound worried yet affectionate. One’s tone of voice and facial feature gives amazing social ques, don’t you think?” Conan flashed him cheeky grin that Kaito saw every time he closed his eyes that evening.

His chest fluttered at being seen through so thoroughly. He was used to always hiding behind a poker face, had believed he had worn one all evening. Either the detective could see through him effortless, or he for whatever reason, let down his guard around him. Conan had not only kept him from harm once again, not outing him to the yakuza, but also decided to help Barnett. Whoever the detective was, even with his ties to dangerous people, he seemed to be a good person.

“Do us all a favour,” the detective continued amicably, not looking in his direction this time. Both his facial features and his voice were dead serious. “Don’t mention what you saw or heard to anyone. It would be the best for everyone. I’d hate to see what would happen if the wrong person heard about it.”

Kaito nodded and agreed wholeheartedly. Despite his curiosity over who this Vermouth person was, he would never utter what happened in the backroom to any living soul. He liked staying alive thank you very much, and worse he would hate it if Conan got into trouble because of him. This would be the second secret they shared – for some reason that made his chest tingle in delight at the knowledge that they were in this together.


	4. Forgotten Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 8376
> 
> Published: 07.08.2020

The sun had shone through the clouds all afternoon, warming up the chill air. He no longer needed to tie his scarf tightly around his throat anymore, and instead let the ends dangle off his shoulders. He opened the front door to the building of the agency with his shoulder, as his hands were occupied holding two cups of coffee.

Conan seemed like a person who liked his coffee black, and he was interested to see if his deduction was correct. It had been a few days since they last saw each other: having accidentally met in the street and they talked for an hour until they got too cold and needed to separate. He found the youth’s humour to be cheeky, and every time he gave a snarky remark, he would stare up at him through his eyelashes with a glow in his eyes.

The expression set his stomach alive with butterflies, and he spent a moment to hush it. He had no business even considering the thought – he found him attractive sure, and enjoyed his personality and company, however in a few short weeks Kaito would return to Tokyo and never see him again. He had a life there, and well, the detective had a life here. But even if he did ask him out, there was no assurance he would even accept.

He shook his head sharply this time: they were dangerous thoughts. He could not risk settle on them, lest he actually took the start of an infatuation serious. It had been a long time since he had felt like this, a voice in the back of his mind supplied, it’s alright to enjoy it while it last. Sometimes its fine to be attracted to someone, without doing anything about it.

Besides, he told himself loudly, there was at least ten years between them. He did not want to be looked upon as a creep.

He took the staircase one step at a time, even though his body thrummed to take the steps two at a time. He needed to reign in his giddiness, he swore. However ever since the day at the Blue Dragon he had not be able to keep Conan out of his mind – it was infuriating.

Finally arriving to the correct floor, he noticed that the door into the agency was slightly ajar. Approaching, he lifted a hand to knock politely – careful to not spill the beverage. However as his knuckle hovered over the wood, something made him freeze. From through the crack, he could see a woman towering over Conan sitting behind the receptionist desk. Her arms were on her hips, she had pale blond hair.

“I need you to back off the case.”

The detective crossed his arms, and lifted an eyebrow at the commanding voice. “Nice to see you too, Vermouth. How is everything? You are not an easy woman to reach.”

Kaito could not see her face, however he imagined her peeved expression. “Same old, same old. I need you to drop the case. It’s the only helping tip I can give you.”

Conan dropped his arms, “I was expecting a message from you, or something from your underlings. Not to see you in person. It must be quite serious if you deemed it worthy to come down and see me personally –“

“Don’t be cute, silverbullet. There is more at play than just your games. I don’t know where you dug up this information, but its better for all parties if you cease your investigation immediately,” she cocked her hip against the corner of the desk. “You can’t afford to get involved with this. Not right now. Trust me.”

Conan gave an audible sigh, that even reached where Kaito was eavesdropping. “You know I do, Vermouth. I am, as always, at your disposal. If you want me to cease my involvement, I will. I wasn’t aware the situation was this precarious as I had originally believed.”

“You look like I just took a way a precious toy,” Vermouth commented, and they shared a small, humorous smile. “I appreciate the favour. Just a friendly advise before I go: you should make your client drop this as well. If the wrong places hear someone is onto them, I can promise they will disappear for good.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Conan said dismissively, his face seemed stoic, however Kaito could see a small tremble in his hand that indicated a stronger emotion at play. “I can handle them.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she gave a one shouldered shrug as she straightened up to her full height. “Well, this reunion was fun, but I am on a strict schedule. I’ll see you later, Silverbullet.”

Kaito backed away from the door quickly, his heart beating in his throat. He needed to hide somewhere, and quick – the feeling of deja-vu swam through him. He decided to quickly walk up the next floor of stairs. He didn’t dare to take the chance of walking down and be spotted.

He reached the top and plastered himself against the wall. His eyes strained at the window next to him. He could hear the clicking of heels as the woman walked down. He wondered who she was – another criminal perhaps? Knowing Conan’s usual business partners, he did not doubt it for a moment. She must know something about Kaitou Corbeau – or perhaps about the death of his father.

Adrenaline shot through him at the realization: the answer to all his questions were right there. However the thought of approaching the woman sent a shiver down his spine. She was a dangerous woman, especially if she had the power to make Conan agree to drop the case.

Waiting on the street was a black, expensive car. He had noticed it in the corner of his eyes as he entered the building, however he had not given it a second glance, too busy with his own thoughts. But as he saw Vermouth step out of the building, the driver exited, stepped around the car and held the door open for her.

Who exactly was this woman, and how was she connection to everything? Vermouth seemed like a code name – just like the individual he had learned about, Snake. What if she could lead him to him? He suddenly ducked away from the glass, gulping a pocket of air as he felt himself shake.

Just as she had stepped into the car, she had turned towards the building and stared directly at Kaito. He hoped she hadn’t actually seen him – he could not afford being on her radar. She had already made thinly veiled threats to Conan.

He was frozen in that position for several minutes, crouched uncomfortably till his knees and back started to complain, waiting for her and the car to be long gone. His pulse was hammering in his throat from a mixture of panic, anxiety and anticipation. Another clue to follow – having hired the detective was certainly the luckiest he had ever been.

“Do you need any help, young man?” the door on his left had opened, and an older woman stared at him with worry. “Should I call for an ambulance?”

Kaito stood shakingly, and gave her a disarming smile. “Thank you for your worry, but I’m fine. Just doing my, uh, afternoon yoga you know. Need to do it at the same time every day or my muscle will stiffen you know.”

She stared at him in disbelief, before shaking her head and mumbling under her breath as she closed the door. “I will never understand these young people and their weird habits.”

He waved his fingers at her, and dropped his arm with a big sigh _. Get it together, Kuroba._ Staring down at the cups in his hands, he wondered if they were still warm. It had been a while since he purchased them – had all but forgotten them during the whole ordeal. Stealing his nerves, he walked back down the staircase.

He looked around quickly, and was glad to see no one waiting for him in the corridor – to shoot him or otherwise. The door to the agency was closed. He knocked politely.

There was no reply.

With a furrowed forehead, he gently pushed the door opened. There was a chime of a bell above. In the few minutes between last time he had peered into the room, it had exploded in chaos. Boxes of paper laid in a circle in the middle of the room. The second door next to the detective’s office was now wide open – showing a room filled with more cabinets of folders.

Having heard the bell, Conan rushed out of the room, a stack of papers underneath one arm. His glasses were hanging askew, and he quickly fixed them to squint at Kaito – he couldn’t help the flutter behind his ribcage at the sight of the tousled detective.

“Kuroba – uh – Kaito? What are – I wasn’t expecting to see you,” he stuttered in his confusion. He put the stack of folders on top of another tower on his desk. It wobbled slightly at the new weight.

“I live in the neighbourhood, thought you’d be in need of some caffeine,” he held the offering in the air towards him. When Conan did not seem to be inclined to deny, he approached.

The detected accepted the cup, took a sip of the cup, and for a second his eyes rolled back in pleasure. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. He opened his eyes again to peer at him through his eyelashes now that he’d reigned in his control from the sudden surprise. “Of course, your hotel is on the same block. I forgot. Well, thank you for the coffee.”

He placed it down on the table, and crossed his arms – for the first time ever, Kaito imagined he seemed a little defensive. “I know it’s been several days, but I don’t have anything new to report on. The lead I was following was a dead end. I’m sorry to say, that, with Corbeau most likely long gone, there is nothing else I can do for you –“

“Who is Vermouth?” Kaito interrupted him, a coldness starting to spread through his inside. Was the detective really chickening out?

Conan stilled at the question, for a second his expression showed clear shock and he wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You really need to stop eavesdropping you know. Its impolite.”

“So is breaking your word,” he barely managed from hissing through clenched teeth. “She knows something – she has to be the answer to unveil everything. We finally have a fighting chance to –“

“Not we,” he stopped him, his eyes cold behind his glasses. “I’m not getting involved any further, and I highly recommend you drop it. You haven’t gotten anywhere in fifteen years: all the old clues are gone and dead. You need to move on with your life.” He walked around the desk, opened one of the drawers and withdrew a file.

“No,” he refused, “I’ve never been this close before. I’m not giving up this easily. I don’t know who this Vermouth is, or why she has you spooked. But you can’t just give up. We were making progress.”

Conan turned back to face him, and thrusted a familiar file into his arms – the same file that Kaito had given him a few weeks prior on their first meeting. “I don’t own you anything, you aren’t paying me. I choose my clients carefully, and I don’t see any gain in continuing on your futile search. If you appreciate your life and that of your friends and family, you will take my suggestion to heart.”

Kaito refused to accept the file. It fell out of his hands and exploded in a chaos of paper and pictures as it hit the ground. He felt bubbling anger burst out of him, “now wait just a minute. You can’t tell me to just turn my back away. This is my life’s work. I refuse to give up.”

The detective turned away from him to walk back to the filing room. “I don’t care what you do, it’s your life. But you will have no help from me. Good day, Kuroba-san.”

His stomach hit the ground with a spectacular crash. He had not been referred to that in weeks, and it felt like a cheap punch to the gut. Fine, if the detective wouldn’t help, then he would find Vermouth on his own. “Keep the file,” he growled, clenching his feet as he turned towards the exist

Before slamming the door shut behind him, he gave one more glare towards Conan. “You are a coward,” and left.

…

Returning to his hotel room, Kaito felt like throwing the nearest object into the wall. His insides were twisted into nuts, and the betrayal lay heavy on his chest. He couldn’t believe the detective had backed down so quickly upon the word of a criminal – or so he assumed. He had believed him to be ferocious in his quest for the truth, like Hakuba was. But in reality, he was nothing but a coward.

He sat down heavily on his bed and clutched his head. He had trusted him, and all he had gotten in return was a cold rejection. Weeks of time had been lost on this useless endeavour – he had hope so dearly that this was the answer to all his problems. That he finally had a chance to uncover the truth so he could put it behind him altogether.

But now? Without the detective’s help? He did not know where to proceed from here. He had put all his hope in Conan – he regretted not asking for updates and what he knew before all this happened. However he had not wanted to be a bother and annoy or disrupt Conan’s process. How foolish had he been – ignored all the warning bells in hope that he was just being paranoid. Perhaps he had just been blind sighted from how attractive he was. The shape of his mouth when he smirk, the glow of his eyes when he glanced at Kaito, the timbre of his chuckles – it all sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, before it turned sour in his stomach.

He had nothing to go on now, did not know everything that Conan had found. He lifted his head as the realization suddenly shook through him. The detective had all the files in his office – if he could only get access to them, then he could pick the case up again. It would be simple –

He bit his lip, he had promised himself, once he knew the truth about his parents, that he would not follow in their footsteps. Their involvement in the criminal world was what had torn their family apart. If they had not been thieves and gotten involved with something dangerous, then his father would still be alive and his mother wouldn’t have left.

He tapped a finger against his thigh in indecision. Was he really willing to give up his moral values for the sake of finding the truth behind his father’s murder? Although in his youth, during his investigations, he had on the occasion dabbled in less legal actions. However he had never outright broken the law. The card game a few days ago was skirting the grey area, however he kept on thinking he was on the moral high ground.

Willingly commit a crime on the other hand? Following in his parents’ footsteps? He felt conflicted. He really wanted to see those case files and see how much Conan actually knew. He wanted to know who Vermouth was as well, and the only way to find out was to steal those said files. He couldn’t ask for them, and Conan had turned him away – had abandoned him. There was no other way. Surely this small theft could be excused in the grand of things, if it led to the arrest of the people behind the murder?

He was standing above a chasm: on one side he could decide to no compromise his morality. Give up and let go, come to peace with the fact he would never find out the truth and move on with his life. The very thought tasted like ash in his mouth. He did not want to give up, not with the answer to a large portion of the puzzle standing right in front of him. All he had to do was reach out and take it.

The second, the more appealing option, was to throw away his conscience and steal the information. If he felt bad, he could just return them after. Maybe make a copy. Yes, he could do that. It wouldn’t be theft then, he would just be borrowing, he told himself.

Kaito stood from the bed, feeling a lot more lighter and calmer now that he had managed to process what had happened. He did not need Conan, he had been working on this case for fifteen years without help – except for some help by Jii-chan of course. He ignored the voice in the back of his mind that told him he had made more progress in the past month with Conan’s help, than he had done for the past decade.

He stepped towards the desk opposite of the bed. Sitting down on the small chair, he opened the drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. He had a lot of things to plan if he were to succeed in his small heist. Unnoticed by him, a small smile curled on the corner of his lips as he started to write a list.

…

Kaito had scouted the office for the past two weeks. Although Conan had an irregular time schedule, he spent precious little time at the agency. Sometimes he would stay for two days straight, and then not show up for a few days. He had currently been there for a day and a half, and finally left – that would mean he would most likely not be back for a while. It was the perfect time to execute his plan.

Packing his bag, he felt giddy, kept having to clench and unclench his knuckles to keep them from shaking from the excitement. Anxiety curled in his stomach, however he refused to let himself dawdle on what could go wrong. It would go smoothly, he was sure of it.

He grabbed after his black cap and pushed it down to his ears, before he checked his wristwatch again. It was time. he took a deep breath, grabbed his equally dark jacket and left. The duffle bag was a heavy, yet comfortable weight on his shoulder as he left the hotel.

Once he entered the street, he quickly glanced around him to satisfy the part of him that was paranoid. As though everyone could read his mind, knowing that he intended to break the law. He knew he was being irrational, no one would know. He couldn’t help it though, being his first time doing something outright illegal.

He started down the street, his gaze strained at the familiar building that was his destination. Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. He froze, his heart beating a mile a minute. Had Conan figured it out already, had seen him spying? It was not beyond impossibility. For a fraction of a second he struggled between a fight and flight reaction. He tightened all his muscles, ready to spring or fight, he did not know hich, before a familiar voice poke behind him.

“I thought that was you, Kaito. You too good to answer your mother when she calls your name?” Chikage chided, and he swirled around, mouth open in shock.

He must have been so focused he had not even heard her – he did not even know his mother was in Las Vegas, as they had not spoken in months. Chikage looked her usual self, elegant, brown bob cut, they had the same eye colour – eyes so blue they had a tint of purple – a white hat, and a white fur coat that reached her knees.

“Mum – I,” he stuttered his surprise, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to call me out. I’m sorry. What – what are you doing here?”

Her face softened, and she drew him into a warm hug. “I’m glad to see you, it’s been far too long,” she hummed, before letting him go. “Are you here performing? The news must have passed me by, let me know when your next performance is and I’ll get tickets. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen my sweet boy on the stage.”

He shook his head, “no. nothing like that, mum. I’m here for personal reasons. Needed some rest and looking for inspiration. Don’t want to burn out and repeat the old spiel to an audience that’s going to grow bored,” he gave her a toothed smile as he lied without batting an eye.

Chikage dropped her arms and stared at him silently for a short moment, before her expression softened. “You could never burn out, you are just like your father. Born to be on the stage. Gosh, you look more like him every time I see you. You are all grown up.”

Kaito couldn’t help keep the blush down, and he lowered his eyes in embarrassment. “I hope he’s proud of me and what I’m doing.”

She took a step away from him, her lips parting to reply, before she narrowed her gaze as her eyes looked him up and down calculating. He didn’t have to guess what conclusion she was jumping too. “What’s with the get-up, Kaito?”

“Costume party,” he lied easily, fixing the strap of his duffle bag. “You know what’s it like. A new theme every night.”

“Uhhuh,” she didn’t look like she believed him. She crossed her arms. “Are you still hunting Kaitou Corbeau?”

He looked away, his jaw clenching. Hot burning anger rose in his chest. “Just because you have forgotten about Dad, doesn’t mean I have. I have a right to know, even if you don’t care anymore.”

He couldn’t see Chikage’s expression, but he could imagine her hurtful expression. “It’s been 23 years Kaito. You need to move on, and go home to your friends. The possibility that Corbeau is connected with what happened to your father is so miniscule. Let it go.”

Kaito turned away from her completely, and clenched his hands. “I’m a grown arse man. I can do what I want,” he practically hissed at her, all his aggression of her not caring about Toichi spilling out. Part of him could never forgive her for giving up and forgetting – she could have helped him: instead she had been telling him to drop it for years. “Goodbye mum, see you in another couple of months.”

As he started to walk away, he could hear her calling out his name, however she did not chase him. Knew better than to do so. After a couple of steps, he turned his face to look behind him, but she had been swallowed up by the crowd. He was glad. He pulled down his cap and continued on with his mission.

Breaking into the apartment was easier than he thought it was. Although his fingers felt shaken as he picked the lock, it was quick and efficient. The positive of being used to swallowing down and control stage fright he presumed. He walked into the office, the humid air hit his face as he did, and he could hear the humming of the heater. The room was dark, so he pulled up a small flashlight. Thankfully, due to the blinds being opened, the neon lights from across the street basked the room in dim light. Enough that he could see.

He went directly to Conan’s office. The door was not closed and easily slid open as he pushed the door handle. On his right was a large file cabinet. Turning the flashlight on, he stepped towards it. It was filed alphabetically, and it was easy to find the files starting on the letter K. He pushed the drawer – however it didn’t budge. It was closed. Shit.

He looked around, thinkingly hard. He remembered Conan having a clip of keys, but where? He wouldn’t leave it in the reception desk, as there would be the first-place burglars looked. Which meant they were either in his main desk, or he took it with him home once he left for the evening. He could only pray it was the latter.

Kaito stepped towards the desk. It was a large, mahogany desk. An empty coffee cup sat on top of some papers, a different cup held a mixture of different pens. He reached for the top drawer and opened it. It didn’t contain much just normal office equipment. The second drawer had some files – a quick look through indicated that they were not the ones he was looking for. The third one however, contained his price. The keychain he had seen Conan using. On the end of the chain was a red bowtie. He shook his head slightly at the silly charm.

He fumbled through the keys, trying out each one, and after a few second he finally managed to find the correct one. He finally had access to the cabinet. He immediately pulled out the drawer as the satisfied click echoed in his head to show the key was the correct fit. He filed through them, only stopping to pick the two important files – one that was thick, the nametag reading “Kaitou Corbeau”, and the second one, rather slim looking file, reading “Kuroba Kaito”. He quickly stuffed them into his duffle bag, excitement and adrenaline soaring through him.

He had done it, now he just had to get out without being seen. He closed the drawer, and went to put the keys back. Before freezing. He bit his lip, looked back at the cabinet. He could take one more file – what’s another one when he had already committed a crime? Before he could talk himself out of it, he went to the V section. After a moment of riffling through the files, he plucked up the one called Vermouth. He stuffed it in his bag, returned the key, and left.

The evening air felt crispy as he stepped back into the street. He could not help a large smile from sprouting as he disappeared into the crowd. He had done it, he had gotten away with it. He had not left anything behind. Conan wouldn’t know it was him even if he noticed anything had disappeared. Who knew how long that would take? The detective himself had told him that he was done and had dropped the case. It was a victimless crime – he would keep his promise, he would take copies of the files and then return them as quick as he could.

One could argue that he should have taken pictures of them there and then, however he didn’t want to take the chance that Conan’s bodyguard, Jigen, would find him. He was not sure why, but the older gentleman sent shivers down his spine. He had seen him once or twice the past two weeks. If he could break in once, he could easily do it again, or so he told himself.

He returned to the hotel, greeted Lucy with a nod, however shook his head when she queried if he was hungry. With giddy, excited steps he reached his hotel room. The answers to everything was right there in his bag – who knew what the detective had managed to dig up.

He threw his bag on the top of his bed, wrestled himself out of his jacket so he could put it on a hanger and removed his hat. He did this with deliberative movements, trying to keep as calm as he could, rather than dig into the content of the bag like a kid on Christmas dat. He could finally approached the bag.

Sitting down next to it, he opened it. He could not keep his hands from shaking this time as he withdrew the three files. The one named Vermouth was the thickest of all of them, however his curiosity won over as he picked up the one with his name on it. He was curious what the detective would have put into his file.

With his heart beating heavily in his throat, he opened it. Only to come to a shocking still. He leafed through the few pages, before dropping it. He picked up the next one, the Corbeau one, leafed through the first few pages, went to the next one. He only opened the Vermouth file, stared at it with an empty expression.

They were all empty. Blank. White paper. Nothing on it. Before he could stop himself, he had already thrown the file at the closest wall. It exploded like confetti, the white papers falling around him. A strangled cry escaped his throat, and his face slammed into his hands with a velocity that squashed his nose. He didn’t care about the pain, even as his fingers dug into his scalp.

He had wasted two weeks, of course it wouldn’t be this simple, his life never fucking was. Of course Conan wouldn’t let him find it that easily, either he had spotted him and played along, or he knew Kaito would break in and swapped them. Inside him, anger and disappointed turmoiled.

“Fuck,” he screamed into his hand, the sound muzzled due to his hands blocking his airways.

“I wouldn’t be opposed.”

The familiar, humouring voice had Kaito spring from the bed. His heart hammering in his ears as he stared wild-eyed at the man leaning against the wall. Conan wore a smirk like an accessory, as he gazed at him through his glasses. He was not wearing his usual jacket, instead he wore red suspensers that matched his bowtie, on top of a white shirt, and dark blue pants.

“What,” was the most intelligent thing that escaped through his lips.

“I’m sure you are surprised to see me,” Conan continued, sounding just as comradery. He walked towards the file that had exploded in its contact with the wall. He leaned over to shuffle the closest papers back into the file.

“You knew I’d do this from the start,” he narrowed his eyes: he suddenly felt surprisingly calm.

“I had a feeling you weren’t the sort to just give up because someone told you too,” he stood and put the document on the closest table. A hand raked through his hand, for a moment the strands were in chaos before settling back to its usual pristine self. Kaito couldn’t help the feeling of attraction from waving through him at the view. “I must say you disappointed me, Kuroba. I wasn’t expecting you to actually go through with it. I thought you were a good person –“

“Fuck off,” he growled in response, “you sit there and psychoanalyse everyone, but you don’t know shit about me or what I’ve gone through. Knowing and feelings is not the same thing. Something I highly doubt you have.”

Conan’s expression closed off, and he lifted his chin so that the glare of his glasses obscured his eyes. “There is no need to take that tone with me. I’m not your enemy.”

“How would I know?” he took a step forward, glaring down at the detective in front of him. “You are consorting with criminals; hell, I saw you try to blackmail the Japanese mafia. You backed down when, someone I assumed is in a different criminal organization, asked you to, without even knowing why. For all I know, you are Moriarty. Some kind of puppet mastermind.”

Being so close, he could see his jaw clench angrily, even if his expression didn’t change. “Don’t call me that. You don’t know what’s going on. This is for your own safety.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” he growled out every word, his voice raising as the red hot anger filled him. “I’m tired of everyone treating me like a child. I’m older than you, it’s my right to know.”

They glared at each other – Conan over his glasses with his blue eyes mesmerizing globes. This up close, he could count every lash of his eyelids, and he could see there was a hint of silver in his eyes. Kaito did not know what he looked like, but he imagined he looked wild with his hair sticking out more than usual, and a glare that rivalled his.

He did not know who moved first, but suddenly teeth were gnashing against teeth, and lips parted willingly as their tongues battled for dominance. Fingers teared into clothing and hair, whatever they could reach. Anger mixed with lust shivered down his spine, fuelling his actions. He tilted his head slightly to pant, and immediately Conan’s lips attached itself to his jaw. Everywhere they touched he could feel a jolt of molten fire – he had not felt anything like this in years, maybe never.

His head was spinning from the sudden change, everything had happened so quickly. His left hand curled around the suspenders above Conan’s heart, and he pulled slightly at it. “Aren’t these slightly out of fashion?” he managed to pant through a groan.

The responding growl made his stomach tighten in excitement, “shut up Kuroba. I’ll make better use of that mouth of yours.”

He could feel Conan’s grin against his neck, and before Kaito had any chance to react, he was pushed into the bed behind him. All air escaped his lungs, and he only had time enough to breathe in once, before Conan was above him again with hungry lips and hands as he helped him out of his shirt.

…

The sound of rain pitter patting against the window woke him up from his slumber. He opened his eyes slowly, just to close them again as the light from outside shone right into his face. He had forgotten to close the blinders before sleeping yesterday.

Speaking of yesterday, his gaze snapped to his right where he could see the sleeping Conan laying on his side facing him. Even after a night of tousling in bed, his hair didn’t seem remotely disturbed even though Kaito knew he had raked his hand through those locks more than once. As the light from outside shone into the room and hitting the sleeping figure, Conan’s face seemed to almost glow in a riot of hues from the entire spectrum. His cheek shone like pure gold as teal and orange crowd in the shadows around his eyes.

And those eyes, Kaito could drown in those eyes. They were like the azure of the ocean before a storm. He knew he was trouble from the first time they had met, yet he could not help but to be drawn to him like a fly to fire. He yearned to reach out and stroke his fingers against his cheek just so he could feel the molten, electrifying fire he had felt last night. He recalled clearly how soft the texture of his skin was – perfectly silken, and with skin kissing skin, he had felt the texture of fine invisible hairs like peach fuzz.

He felt a shiver of lust rake down his spine and curl in his stomach at the memory. He had never in his wildest dream imagined he would end up in this position. He had been so angry yesterday, and then suddenly they were kissing. He could not help the blush that crept up from his collar bone. Everything had happened so quick – they had moved together effortlessly, almost as thought it was a familiar dance.

“Are you just going to stare at me all morning?” a moment later Conan’s eyelids fluttered open, and a tired expression stared in his direction. The grovel of his morning voice gave him a flutter in his chest.

“That an offer?” his lips curled upwards in a playful grin, that had Conan roll his eyes and mutter under his breath. However there was a light lilt of his mouth that indicated that he was in a good mood.

“I have to say,” Kaito continued, “I’m not really one to… you know,” he coughed ever so slightly.

“Have angry sex?” Conan supplied with a smirk.

Kaito chuckled and leaned back in bed, pushing a hand through his head as he stared up at the ceiling. “I meant, having a spontaneous one-night stand.”

The detective stilled next to him, for a few seconds there was a throbbing atmosphere above them – one that Kaito could not name. “I didn’t take you for one,” he finally replied.

He glanced towards Conan with a curious expression. It was odd seeing him without glasses, almost like he was vulnerable without the spectacles to obscure his eyes whenever he wished to. Without them, his eyes seemed almost more intense. Once again, he yearned to brush his lips against him again.

“What was your father searching for?”

Everything in him froze for a moment, however Conan was not even looking at him, rather he was staring at the ceiling. For a moment, he considered not answering, before realizing how foolish it would be. They had gotten to this point because both were keeping some vital information from each other.

“I’ll tell you,” he started slowly, still staring at the detective’s face, “if you answer a question as well.”

He waited for the miniscule nod of his face, instead – to his surprise – Conan replied: “deal.”

Kaito sat up, wrestling a little with his pillow so he could comfortably lean his torso against the wall. “Pandora.”

The detective frowned, and stared up at him with a puzzled expression. “Like the box?”

He could not help the fond smile that twitched in the corner of his mouth, before he smoothed his expression. “It’s a gemstone. I’m not sure if it’s real or just a myth. No one really knows what it looks like, other than the fact it glows red under the light of a full moon.”

Conan shuffled on the bed until he was sitting up leaning towards the wall as well. His expression looked thoughtful. “Sounds indeed like a fairy tale. I imagined it has a value aside from the aesthetics.”

Kaito huffed through his nose in amusement – the detective always a step-in front of him. “Say’s to grant immortality. Ridiculous I know, but someone powerful wants their hands on it, and they had my father murdered for it,” his face fell, and he looked away.

“And you think Kaitou Corbeau is looking for it?” the detective asked with a soft voice after a quiet moment.

He shrugged, “fuck if I know. If he has any connection to KID, he must be. He knew about Pandora, that’s all I know.”

A silence fell around them, both in deep thoughts at what they had been talking about – or so Kaito assumed. He thought about the night he confronted Corbeau, everything they had said to each other. The thief had to be lying, he was sure. It was the only thing that made sense, there had to be a connection.

“Did you ever think about following in your father’s footsteps?” he looked up to meet Conan’s eyes with surprise. The detective’s gaze was intense, that sent his chest fluttering at having all that attention. “Take matters into your own hand? You haven’t seemed squeamish at doing whatever is necessary. Wouldn’t the easiest option to pick up the mantle and have them come after you instead of searching for them for 15 years?”

His mouth felt dry, felt like he could see straight into his soul. “Of course I thought about it,” he spoke before realizing he had. He tore his eyes from the detective to stare down at his hands, just so he could think clearly again. “But it wasn’t worth it. I saw what Kaitou KID did to our family, all the lies and secrets tore us apart. I don’t want to be like him. I’m not a criminal, even if I brought back the jewels after I was done with them. I don’t think my morality could take it for long. I don’t want to lie to the ones I love.”

He more felt than saw Conan look away, “I know the feeling,” he responded with a humourless laugh. “I have done nothing but for a very long time.” There was a slight hesitation, before he sighed. “Do you remember the story I told you a few weeks ago, about my friend who lost her soulmate? That was me, I was the one who died.”

Kaito turned his whole body towards him, his mouth opened in utter shock. “Wha-what? What do you mean you died?”

Conan would not meet his gaze, “I was following two culprits from a case. I knew they were up to something. But I was careless – arrogant even. My soulmark was my own fucking name, I couldn’t have known. They jumped me and force fed me some poison,” he seemed to be paling as he talked, “the pain was excruciating. I thought I was dying. But I woke up, and I was suddenly a child again. And my soulmark was gone.”

Had he not told an equally impossible story, he had been slightly inclined to not believing a gist of what the detective was telling him. However, from the miniscule shaking of Conan’s hand, and the haunting tint in his eyes, he knew he was telling the truth. “But,” he opened his mouth, closed it. Had no idea what to say. “I’m sorry.”

The detective looked up at him in surprise, apparently had not expected that response. His lips curled ever so slightly, however Kaito could not tell what emotion fuelled the motion. “I don’t know what magic soulmarks operates under. Don’t think anyone do, but whatever it is, it considered me dead. And well, she moved on. Married someone with no soulmark. She is happy, and that’s all I can ask for.”

Kaito earned to embrace him in a hug, however he did not know how to do so without making things awkward. They might have slept together, however he did not really know their current standing. “I guess one can’t really hope for more for the people we love,” he remembered dating Aoko in their teens, before he realized he was gay. She had been obviously upset, but eventually found true love in – he gagged at the very thought – Hakuba.

“That’s why I’ve been trying to make you drop the case. Your culprits are dangerous individual, high ranking members of an organization. It’s the only reason Vermouth would show up in person to call me of the case. I’ve been hunting a criminal syndicate for fifteen years, but I brought nothing but bad luck and pain to everyone I love. That’s why I am here, working in the shadows instead. Using my connection to one day find enough dirt to bring them all down,” Conan clenched his jaw, an indication of his strong feelings on the subject. “It started innocently, some criminals would come to me, asking for help, and well in return I kept everything. I might or might not black mail some. It might be dirty work, but the means justify the ends. At least to me.”

Kaito felt his mouth dry, and his stomach churned a little. They had almost been the same – if he had picked up his father’s mantle as he had been tempted to do in the past, then they would be the same. Thinking that the end justifies the means. The realization made him feel a bit dizzy. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are not going to give up, are you?” Conan finally lifted his eyes to peer at him through his eyelashes. “No matter what I say or do, you won’t go back home and live your life without solving this.”

“No,” he stared straight back at him with a confident expression. “I haven’t come so far just to give up now.”

The detective’s lips curled upwards slightly, mostly humourlessly. “I thought so,” he suddenly removed the blanket covering him to stand up. He approached his clothes, picked up his pants and started to root through the pockets. A moment later he withdrew something from it before starting to pull the pants on.

Kaito felt a bang of disappointed at the realization that he was leaving – part of him had hoped the morning would never end. He was already missing being surrounded by his pleasant scent. Even as he was in deep thoughts, he was aware that Conan approached the bed and sat down at the edge of it. He held out a small, white card in Kaito’s direction. With a curious look at the detective’s face – he wore an open expression – he accepted the card.

It was written in elegant kanji, and after a moment he realized it was an invitation to a location for tomorrow night. He looked back up in surprise. “What is this?”

“Kaitou Corbeau resurfaced,” a mischievous grin had grown on Conan’s lips as he waited for the magician to read the card. A dangerous gleam was now glittering in his eyes. “I thought you would like to know.”

Kaito’s mouth popped upon in surprise, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “I thought you said he would be long gone?”

He got a shrug in response, “if he was smart, he would be But I guess there is something in the city he really wants. I’ll help you find him and his identity this time. He won’t escape our grasps.”

Kaito swallowed, hope blossoming in his chest. “What about – Vermouth’s warning?”

“I am my own agent, I do what I want. She doesn’t have to know everything,” he stood from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Kaito heard the sprinkling of water, however most of his attention was focused on the little card in his hands.

He felt anticipation fluttering in his stomach – another chance, and so soon after the last. He would have another chance of talking to Corbeau, and this time he would be ready. The address seemed to be one of the more fancier hotels. Considering the Kanji, it was most likely an invitation from the Yakuza. He hoped he wouldn’t be recognized even if the chances were miniscule, however not even the worry about the mafia could dampen his excitement.

Conan exited the bathroom, grabbed his last clothes before tying his shoes, all Kaito could do was stare at him from the bed. As the detective noticed him staring, he gave him a smirk that made his cheek redden and his pulse quicken out of a different of excitement.

“Be an hour early, and wear something pretty,” he winked and left the room.

Kaito breathed out heavily, could finally breathe – Conan was always such a storm of intensity. He thought the past two weeks after their argument at the office had dampen his growing feelings, but after this morning he could not seem to close the box of his emotions. He thought about everything he had been told – wondered how old the detective really was. He had assumed he was in his early twenties, but he had shrunk into a kid? What if he was in reality 80? What if had slept with someone old enough to be his grandpa?

The idea made him let out a small giggle – he knew what he had to ask Conan the next time they saw each other. However, even at the thought of having accidentally slept with someone twice his age, it did not dampen his mood. His eyes landed on the blank paper he had not cleaned yesterday. Adrenaline suddenly shot through him, and he jumped out of bed, barely remembering to put on pants as he ran out of the apartment.

“Conan!” he yelled down the corridor just as he saw the detective silhouette disappear around a corner. He swore under his breath and was about to chase, before he saw Conan appear with a surprised but amused expression. “I still haven’t asked my question. The documents, why were they empty? Did you know I was going to steal those three?”

Understanding dawned on him, and his smile turned sharp as dagger. “I knew you would, but I never switched the files with empty ones, if that’ what you are thinking.”

Kaito mouth popped upon in surprise, “then what –“

Before he could finish his sentence, Conan was tapping a finger against his temple. “All the files are in here? In my mind palace. All the files in the office are empty, they are just for show.”

He was rooted to the floor – he had been completely bamboozled. It had never occurred to him that anyone was so smart that they had memorized everything. The walls seemed to swam as he felt humility in his utter defeat. He had never had a chance to stand up against him from the start. A laughter escaped his lips before he could stop himself. “I’m such a fool.”

“It happens to everyone,” was the gleeful expression in reply, he then turned to walk away.

“Wait,” Kaito stopped him, before he forgot. “What’s your real age?”

The only response he got was a thrilling laughter that sent pleasant shivers down his spine, followed by a middle finger waved towards him, and a “Good day, Kaito,” as the detective disappeared around the corner once more.

Kaito slapped a hand over his chest to keep his heart from beating through his ribcage. His fingers curled into the words of his soulmark. His eyes were strained to the corner for a few moments, before he managed to make his feet walk back to his room. He felt warm, a lot warmer than usual, and he hoped he could rid himself of this feeling before it would be the end of him. He pushed the thought of the detective out of his head as he got dressed. He had lots of things to prepare in order to be ready for his next encounter with Kaitou Corbeau.


	5. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 8193
> 
> Published: 10.08.2020

The room was crowded with expensive cloth, jewellery and perfume – and this only from the guests. An expensive-looking crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the room. The décor was tasteful with fashionable furniture and an appropriate amount of columns framed the room. On the left side against one of the walls, was a large glass panel. Several guards stood in front of it, not letting anyone close.

Whatever was behind that glass, Kaito presumed it to be the target of the heist.

“You clean up nicely,” a familiar voice rumbled at his elbow.

Kaito almost jumped in surprise, he had not noticed anyone approached. He glanced towards the detective, and felt his lips quirk ever so slightly in amusement. He was still wearing his usual pristine suit, with a red bowtie. He was no longer wearing a trench coat, however he was pretty sure Conan was still wearing those ridiculous suspenders. His hair was, as usual, groomed without a hair sticking out.

“Do you only own that one expensive suit?” Kaito asked with a teasing grin.

Conan glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, his mesmerizing blue irises glowing from the artificial lights above. “I’ll have you know, I have eight suits of the same colour. Why mess with perfection.”

Kaito opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted before he could.

“ – but I’ll have you know this attire is a shade more Prussian blue than yesterday’s. I’m not completely boring in the wardrobe area.”

He closed his mouth with a click, and amusement bobbled in his chest. “Apologies, detective. I retract my previous statement.”

Conan’s eyelids fluttered ever so slightly at the nickname, and Kaito’s chest tightened at the sight. His memories flashed back to that evening. Skin against skin, molten electricity sparking wherever they touched. The whisper of breaths and moans. Teeth and mouth clashing together in passion. He could remember every detail perfectly, every movement and emotion on Conan’s face. A warm shiver ran down his spine, and he felt his breath hitch ever so slightly as he quickly shook the memories away. This was not the time to be distracted.

Looking at the detective, he felt an urge to lean forward and brush his lips against his. The yearning tingled from his toes to his ears. And the thought – fuck it. He had finally been allowed to taste that sweet skin that he had fantasized about since their first meeting. What was stopping him now? He leaned forward ever so slightly, however the moment he did Conan turned away.

It was a clear indication of rejection, and he felt the disappointment heavy on his stomach. He leaned back on he balls of his feet, and gave a strained smile, pretending he wasn’t disappointment. Part of him didn’t want to keep it a one night stand. However this was neither the time nor the place to ask Conan out properly. Besides, he barely even knew anything about him. _Perfect time to get to know him more,_ his mind supplied him unhelpfully.

“Edogawa-san,” a voice spoke behind them in Japanese. Kaito instantly recognized the voice, and a shiver ran down his spine, ending with a hard twist of unease in his stomach. “I’m pleased you accepted my invitation.”

In the corner of his eye, he saw Conan turn around to face the newcomer. “I could hardy refuse,” he imagined the smile on the detective’s face having far too many teeth to be pleasant.

Kaito felt rooted to the spot, almost paralyzed to move. He remembered the dangerous gleam in the Yakuza’s eyes at the bar as he discussed dangerous matters with the detective. He had been terrified of what would happen to him if he was caught ease dropping. He knew he was currently there as guest, however he could not shake the feeling that had soaked into his bones.

“Let me introduce my honoured guest,” the Shimada Oyabun continued. “This is Kuroba Chikage-san.”

Kaito choked on his own spit, and turned around in what felt like slow motion – hoping against everything that he had heard wrong, or it was a pure coincidence. Chikage was smiling brightly where she hung from Shimada’s arms, her eyes seemed almost purple due to the heavy eyeshadow, and she peered up at him from underneath her eyelashes. She wore a modest, body tight dress that reached her knees, high heels, and a flapper headpiece with what looked like real diamonds.

As she noticed Kaito, her smile dimmed ever so slightly in shock, before returning ten folds. However he could tell it was slightly forced.

Conan instantly noticed the change of behaviour between them, and he a knowing look glittered in his eyes as his lips quirked up ever so slightly. “I believe we have met before, Chikage-san. It is, as always, a pleasure.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Kaito choked. He had not known Conan knew his mum. How, when, where?

Finally reigning in her shock, an impish expression settled on Chikage’s face. “What a wonderous meeting. Hanzo,” and she turned to the man she was attached to, “ this is my son, Kaito.”

“Ah yes,” the intense brown gaze of the oyabun settled on his form, feeling as though he was looking straight into his soul. “The magician son, I’ve heard much about you.”

Kaito shook the offered hand automatically, his tongue feeling too swollen to speak. He swallowed, before forcing a smile that was probably more akin to a grimace. “Funny, I’ve never heard about you.”

Conan seemed to have noticed Kaito’s discomfort, as he stepped forward with an arm stretched. “Mind if I have a word before the show, Shimada-san. It’s about,” he paused for meaningful moment, “the security.”

Shimada’s eyes finally left him and settled on the detective. “Naturally,” he nodded once, before turning towards Chikage. With a kiss on her cheek, he excused himself. “I will only be a moment, do enjoy the refreshments.” He stepped away following Conan into the crowd, before disappearing.

Kaito turned to his mother and fit his arm around hers. He kept the grimace smile as he leaned towards her. “Mother, dearest. What on earth are you doing here?”

She looked back at him from the corner of her eyes. He could count every mascara heavy eyelash. She wore a coyishly expression. “I was invited to a party. You know me, I can never resist the chance to dress up. Hanzo’s been kind to me, he bought me this necklace just for this event,” her finger dipped into her throat, and he could see a pearl necklace showing up from underneath all the fabric. He had been too shellshock to take in that detail earlier.

Glancing around quickly, he lowered his voice as he hissed. “Why are you consorting with known criminals? And being so friendly no less!”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied. For the first time since they had noticed each other, she looked serious. “Does this have anything to do with Kaitou Corbeau? I thought I asked you to stay away from him –“

They had started to migrate towards one of the open doors to one of the less crowded corridors. He tightened his grasp on his mother’s arm, forcing his face to look friendly rather than reflecting the anger that bobbled in his chest, in case anyone was looking their way. “That’s not the current problem. You are really chummy with the head of the Yakuza,” he tried not to sound accusing, but it was hard.

“Look, Kaito,” Chikage sighed heavily, “I met him at a charity event last week. He was just so charming when he invited me to this party, I couldn’t say no. I didn’t know he was connected to organized crime.”

She kept her gaze steady as she stared at him straight in the eye. He frowned at her, she was trying too hard to sound sincere. Most people look down or away when they lie, or simply wont meet anyone’s eyes. However, he knew his mother well. She was a professional by trade.

“You are lying.”

She looked away, her eyes rolling underneath her eyelashes ever so slightly. “You are so much like your father. Its infuriating. I don’t think this is the correct company for either of us. I don’t know what you are involved with. I propose a truce: I will go home if you go home.”

“I think we both know that wont happen,” he grit his teeth. They finally reached a quiet corridor, and he leaned against the wall as he looked down at his mother. “Why are you here mum?”

“What’s your relationship with Edogawa Conan?” she asked instead of replying, her gaze was questioning, before turning mischievous. “Do you like him?”

He couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up from his collar from the question. However he did not avert his eyes. “I hired him to find Corbeau. The service of a professional have helped the case immensely. I really think I have a chance to finally catch him, mum. Do you want to join me?”

He could see her jaw clench as she turned to the side. “This isn’t healthy. You need to give up the case. Getting involved with Edogawa-san is dangerous. Ideally I wouldn’t want you anywhere near him or Kaitou Corbeau,” she turned back to him. Her expression sad, the usual glittering of her eyes dimmed. She reached out to him, and brushed her fingers against his jaw. “You got out, Kaito. You are free. You never followed in your parents footsteps, and you are a better person for it. The freedom of not being bound and restricted by our past. You need to let the past go so you can move forward. Please,” her eyes were searching, hopeful.

His chest tightened at the desperation in his mother’s face. He had never seen her like this. There was too many emotion whirling in her eyes for him to properly comprehend them all. She clearly wished him to move on with his life. however – “I can’t,” he stepped and out of her grasp. His eyes turning cold as he did, “if you are not willing to do anything, then I have to. I’m pursuing this because I don’t want anyone else to go through what I did. I can’t change the past, but I can save the future for another family. I don’t care what it will cost me.”

Chikage’s eyes darkened ever so slightly at his last remark. She pursed her lips together. “Don’t live to regret those words. Because I have. It’s my fault your father is dead, I didn’t care how dangerous my past was. I don’t want to see anything happening to you too because of me. I know you wont drop it, but you can’t expect me to not to hope. You are stubborn, like me.”

“I guess we come to a standstill then,” he shot back, biting back the anger bobbling in his chest. “I will see you after the heist.” He paused for a second, before continuing with a hopeful lilt. “Unless you want to join me,” he held his hand out, trying not to sound begging. “The Kuroba’s together once again.”

He could not read the expression on his mother’s face. She had shut down, her eyes gleaming with sadness. Her left hand shook ever so slightly, giving him the optimism that she would finally give in and join him. if only for the night, he was sure nothing could stop them if she did.

“No.”

His hand drop and he felt his whole face fell into an emotionless and cold mask. “I see,” he turned to walk away, however he hesitated when Chikage called out.

“I’m sorry, Kaito. But I just can’t. You don’t understand,” she trailed off, sounding almost on the verge with tears.

He couldn’t muster the energy to care, not with the anger and disappointment fighting in his stomach. “And you never cared to explain.” He continued walking, did not wait to hear her response as he disappeared off into the crowd. The betrayal felt bitter on his tongue – his mother had never listened or trusted him. She had never been on his side, not ever. Sure, she had encouraged his career and was proud of him. But it felt cheap, like a poor patch on his wounds – an attempt to keep things together.

He did not understand her, how could she not desire the truth – and get revenge. It was unthinkable. He had just offered her everything, and she had still sad no. She didn’t have to do anything but to believe in him, but she had not even bothered doing that much. He wondered sometimes why she didn’t care – perhaps it had to do with all the lovers she had taken. Free to do as she pleased without being hold back by marriage. He clenched a fist, and could not keep down a grimace. He felt tempted to punch the closest wall – or perhaps search for Shimada Hanzo and use him as a punching bag instead. His mother was too good for that pompous criminal.

“If looks could kill,” a familiar voice, hummed, and a moment later Conan was standing next to him with a lifted eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

Kaito was not in the mood for niceties, and he scowled in response. “Not every family is picture perfect you know. If only we could choose our parents.”

The detective gave a one armed shrug. “We have to love the ones we get. My parents were rather absent in my childhood. The kind that was half across the world instead of raising me. A lot of things would have been avoidable if they had been there,” he paused for a moment, before giving a lopsided smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Somethings are just meant to be, I wouldn’t have lost my soulmate if they were more active in my life. But then my soulmark would have been completely different as well.”

Kaito stared at him with a horrified expression, “so everything is your parents’ fault? The fact you are turned to child, lost the woman you loved, and is stuck on a one-manned mission? How can you not hate them for it?”

“They never had bad intentions. Sometimes bad things happens and no one is at fault. Some people would call that destiny. Actions that can’t be controlled. Sure, it’s partly my parents fault for letting me run around as I please. But its also my fault for not being more considerate of my freedom. You shouldn’t hate your mother for wanting only the best for you: she doesn’t want to see you follow down the footsteps of your father and die for something she did in her youth.”

He parted his lips, changed his mind, before replying with a thin voice. “What do you mean something she did in her youth?”

Conan rolled his eyes, “don’t be coy. I know your mother was the Phantom Lady. Stop insulting my intelligence.”

He lowered his shoulders in defeat. “Stop being so perceptive. Its infuriating. At some point I don’t even have to say anything, because it feels like you know what I’m going to say before I say it.”

The detective glanced at him in the corner of his eyes, a coy smile played on his lips. “It’s more polite to let you say it.”

Kaito punched him lightly in the shoulder, and could not stop small grin from growing. “Thanks, I guess.” He suddenly noticed that his bad mood at evaporated through their exchange. His chest felt lighter, and he realized that he never managed to stay angry long in Conan’s company. The detective always knew the right things to say to calm him down. He tried to stop the fluttering of his heart as a thousand butterfly trembled behind his ribcage.

He did not know what his expression conveyed, but Conan suddenly lowered his gaze, breaking the tender moment they had shared. The previous happy feeling faded away as disappointment twirled in his stomach. It really did look like Conan had no interest in continuing whatever they had between them – he was sure he could feel it too.

“Here’s the plan,” Conan cleared his throat, not looking in his direction even once as he explained what he predicted was going to happen, and what he needed Kaito to do. The magician stood there in silence, gazing down at him trying not to focus on the brewing sad thoughts, as he nodded his agreement to the plan.

…

The corridor was brightly lit. Tasteful and expensive paintings littered the walls on either side. Just looking up, he spotted two surveillance cameras in opposite corners. He suppressed the urge to correct his tie, and he plastered on a professional expression on his face. Two guards walked towards him – they wore expensive looking suits, with neutral coloured ties.

Unable to restrain the anxiety prickling in his fingers, he let them drag across the forage cap he was wearing, in order to disguise the fact he pushed the tip further down to obscure his face. The guards didn’t seem to give him a second glance due to the fact he was wearing the same outfit, and the fact he too was Japanese. It was amusingly easy to slip in unnoticed due to the racial profiling in this country.

“The Oyabun have you patrolling this corridor as well?” one of them suddenly spoke after they passed each other, and Kaito froze, but immediately forced his muscles to move. He turned his head to the side, careful to keep his facial feature hidden in shadows.

“You know the higher ups. Always a paranoid bunch,” he replied back smoothly in Japanese, “the way I see it, the further away from the action I am, the less chance they are going to blame us for any mistakes.”

The one who had spoken to him grinned. He had a short clipped beard, “I like you. Let’s all go for drinks after this is all over.”

“Sounds good,” Kaito drawled back, “now, if you excuse me, I need to get to my rendezvous point, or I’ll get in trouble.” They nodded their goodbye, and parted ways. Kaito breathed out in relief. He rolled his shoulder to relieve some stress. He was getting surprisingly good at lying, he felt. He was not sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.

He checked his watch as he rounded the corner, making sure he was out of sight. He still had a few more minutes left. Arriving at the end of the corridor, he went through the exit and ran up the set of stairs. Even though he had the time, he could not risk being delayed by any other wandering guards. He pushed open the door and looked around. He was alone.

Not losing any time, he strolled down the corridor, making sure he did not look suspicious. He kept an eye on the security cameras as he did. If he remembered the building lay out correctly, he should be nearly there. Rounding a corner, the tapestry a tasteless cornflower yellow, he finally spotted what he had been looking for. One of the cameras had a small electronic bug on them. He wouldn’t have seen it if he had not been specifically looking.

He taped at the small microphone pin on his jacket. “Target located on the 8th floor.” He did not get a response, however he knew Conan had received the message. Looking back up at the camera, he was pretty sure the video looped and he was out of view. The camera was angled towards an inconspicuous door.

Kaito made his way, excitement was churning in his stomach. He reached out to the door handle. It was locked. It wasn’t unexpected. He immediately kneeled down, and from a side pocket he fished up a small kit, and withdrew the first pin. Unlike the other doors on the this floor, this door had a normal keyhole, rather than the magnetic cards of the normal hotel rooms.

With practiced fingers, he unlocked it within a few second. The soft ‘click’ was satisfying. With a small smile twitching on his lip – he couldn’t help it, it was too exhilarating – he pushed the door open as he stood and the kit fell seamlessly back into a pocket in the same motion. Immediately, the smell of chemicals wafted towards him, and he only scrunched up his nose for the first reaction before getting used to the smell.

He stepped through the door and closed it behind him. The room was a simple storage room, filled with knickknacks and such that a janitor would need. A few toilet plungers and brushes laid on a shelf on his left. On the right he could see sanitizing cleaners and deodorizers from the corner of his eyes. In the middle of the room was a set of floor buffer and a steam cleaner.

He only gazed quickly over the room, before his eyes settled on a rectangular mental box nestled between two shelfs. Another grin twitched on his lips as he started towards his price. Having rounded the shelf, he could now see it in full. It was a fuse box.

Looking at it at first glance, it seemed undisturbed, however Kaito knew better. He opened it. His vision was filled with small switches and cables. It didn’t take him long before he noticed something out of place. It was a small box attached to one of the cables. Looking closer, he could tell it was a remote control to turn the lights off. Conan had not been sure if they would be automatic or remote controlled. That answered one question.

Kaito checked the clock again before leaning against the nearby shelf. It wasn’t long till now. He felt the anticipation bubbling in his chest and a shot of adrenaline had his fingers twitching. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, trying to catch a thief under the nose of the Yakuza. His venture into the criminal world had been a slippery slope – barely been a month since he had stepped through the gate of the Meixcan Cartel, then he had participated in a questionable card game at the Yakuza stint. This followed by breaking into Conan’s office – he was not sure if he felt bad about that or not.

And now this? What would he be doing next? He shook his head, if Aoko ever found out she would lynx him. Especially considering she had followed her father into the family business and become a detective. For a moment he entertained the amusing image of his childhood friend chasing after him while he was the elusive phantom thief.

He jumped as there was a sudden sound from the fuse box, followed by gasps of screams that was even audible two stores up. He stood instantly, his eyes ignoring the small puff of smoke coming from the box. He immediately narrowed down his search on some switches that had flickered down – he had memorized their positioning when he opened the box. Without hesitating he flickered them back up.

He listened to any sound from downstairs, however he could not hear any reaction to his disappointment. If Corbeau had been caught red handed, he would not know until meeting up with Conan. He hoped his quick reactions had been enough of a hinder for the thief in order for the detective to set up his second plan.

Kaito pocketed the small advice before closing the door. He left the room and locked it properly behind him. He took of his cap and raked his fingers through his hair. He felt slightly sweaty, and he couldn’t help but grin. He had done it, mission accomplished, and without any hiccups. He hoped Conan would be pleased with him. Now he just needed to make it back down unnoticed and no one would be non the wiser of his involvement. Conan had been very clear that no one had to know. Especially not the boss, Shimada Hanzo.

Despite their acquaintance, the detective did not trust him one bit.

Naturally, the moment he got cocky and let down his guard, was when everything went to shit. He had believed that the hard part was over and he was out of the woods. As he stood there, grinning to himself, a group of Yakuza members rounded the corner. They all froze for a fraction of a second, staring at each other in surprise. Before one of them yelled.

“That’s Kaitou Corbeau, get him!” Two of them fumbled with the guns on their hips, while the other two dived to catch him.

Kaito did not hesitate as he bolted immediately – he did not even bother trying to tell them that they had mistaken his identity. Perhaps if they were police officers he would, but these guys would shoot and ask questions later. And Kaito, would really rather not be shot.

As he skidded down a corner, he more felt than heard two bullets swish past his head. He swallowed thickly, and a burst of adrenaline had him run faster than he had ever ran before. He imagined what he would have looked like. Standing in front of the door to the janitor’s closet with a wild, triumphant grin plastered on his face. Everyone would assume he was the perpetrator.

He could hear swearing from behind him as he ran to the exist. He did not stop as he burst through the door and practically jumped down the first set of stairs. As he reached for the door, it suddenly opened up under his palm, and he almost ran straight into the chest of a muscular guard. They shared a glance – Kaito one of petrification, the thug one of surprise – before the guard lunged for him the same time the magician jumped back. The man stumbled for a moment, before losing his balance as he went tumbling down the staircase.

By now the original chasers had arrived on the top of the staircase, glowering down at Kaito from their plateau. In one movement, Kaito threw the door in the guards’ face, hoping it would stun them long enough for him to escape. He took the steps down as quick as he could, practically jumping over the man laying at the bottom of the stairs. However as he turned to continue, he felt a hand clasping at his calf. Surprised, and with no time to catch himself, he went tumbling down.

The metal stair dug into his rib, and he let out a painful grunt as all air in his lung escaped. The grip around his calf increased, and he heard the guard laugh manically. He glanced backwards, and was met with a crazed and angry look. Blood seeped from his nose, and his smirk turned into one resembling a shark.

Kaito did not waste any time as he raised his non-captured leg to kick him in the face as hard as he could. However, before he had the chance, his foot was grabbed by a second set of hands. Before he had any chance to react, he was turned on his back, and now his vision was filled with a group of guards glaring at him angrily but wearing a set of triumphant smirks.

Before he had any chance to react, the closest leaned down to grab his collar. “You better give up now, Kaitou Corbeau,” he hissed, “give us the gem and Shimada-sama might go easy on you.” The way his eyes glittered, had Kaito think he was lying. This guy oozed happiness at the thought of violence.

He swallowed down thickly, “you have the wrong person,” he managed to whine thinly through his teeth. “I’m not a thief, its all a coincidence –“ he broke his sentence as a foot stepped on his stomach, hard. He wheezed in pain. Another kick was aimed straight to his ribs – he wanted to curl up, but with his limbs captured it was an impossible wish.

“Let’s try this again,” droned the guard holding his collar. “Tell us where the gem is, and I wont punch you in the face.”

“I left it at your mum’s last night,” Kaito wheezed out between kicks. He could taste metal in his mouth, and he was not disillusioned enough to recognize it as blood.

The thug blinked at him once in confusion, before his eyebrows knitted together in anger. He balled his fist, and a moment later it connected with Kaito’s jaw, followed by another one to his nose. At first, all he could hear was a sickening crunch – the pain from the initial impact not felt due to the ache of his jaw. Before he wetly gasped as blood gushed from his nose and filled his mouth.

He couldn’t breathe for a moment, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. His vision was a blur of white – and he could swear he saw something glittering, like stars. His ears were filled with a white static. He was suddenly released, and he doubled over on his stomach to hose himself up on his elbow. He spat out blood until he could finally take a mouthful of air. He could still feel the blood from his nose, mixed with snot, run down his mouth and chin. Tears he had not noticed before, blurred his vision.

He was vaguely aware of movement around him as he tried to take as few breaths as possible as the pain in his ribcage and stomach hindered the movement. It hurt, everything hurt. Why had he been so foolish? He should have been more careful, he should never have agreed on participating in this plan. However, his thoughts suddenly froze at the image of Conan being beat up by the thugs instead, and changed his mind promptly.

“Can you move?” a voice murmured next to him. One of concern.

Kaito lifted his head miniscule and tilted his head slowly so he could see the newcomer. The first thing he noticed was the glare of a monocle as the gazed at him, only a second later did he realized the spectacles belonged to a face. A very familiar face. One of ageless beauty framed by dark hair and a black top hat.

Kaitou. Fucking. Corbeau. Had come to his rescue. If he wasn’t in so much pain, he would have laughed. Or cried, or both.

“You should leave,” he tried to splutter underneath his breath, but he was pretty sure it came out as incomprehensible.

The thief disappeared from view, and Kaito gave a sharp breath hiding a groan – both in disappointment and delight that Corbeau was listening to him. A second later, the sound turned to a painful moan as the man grabbed his arm and holstered it over his shoulder. A moment later, Kaito was standing somewhat.

He hunched over and wheezed through the pain and the vertigo following the sudden change. He suddenly really missed kissing the floor. Opening his eyes, he could see eight guards laying in pools around him, some groaning and complaining, others completely knocked out.

“This way,” Corbeau mumbled underneath his breath as he started back up the stairs. It took longer than either of them would have liked to get up the set of stairs. All Kaito could do was to breath heavily through his nose and pray he did not pass out. The white spots on his vision threatened as much.

They finally reached their intended floor, and the yellow warmth of the corridor calmed Kaito’s nerves ever so slightly as they stepped through the door. He opened his mouth to attempt a question, he had never been so close to the thief before, however he had a hard time remembering any queries he had ever had through the haze of his head. All that came out was a gurgling gasp.

“Don’t try to speak,” Corbeau hushed him almost motherly as he continued his slow but steady route down the hallway. Kaito could not help but agree as his head lolled against his shoulder. The thief smelled nice. Like spicy lavender and champagne.

He scrunched his nose at a flash of familiarity. He knew that smell, he was certain of it. But through the dizziness and the pain he could not remember from where. Corbeau suddenly stopped in front of a door. After a moment of shuffling through his clothes, he fished up a keycard and unlocked the door. They wrestled through the opening, and Kaito was disposed on the bed.

He curled up as much as he could as another spike of pain wrecked through his body, and closed his eyes. He heard Corbeau move around the room, however he did not have the energy to watch him as he started to drift away.

“Stay awake, Kaito,” hissed a voice loudly, and suddenly a hand was gently but firmly smacking his cheeks.

He opened his eyes as wide as he could from the jolt. It had not been hard, but it was enough to snap him out of the sleepy haze. He stared wide-eyed up at Corbeau. He was no longer wearing his top hat, and the cape was draped over Kaitou. He could not see the thief’s facial feature due to the room being dark: the only light came from the open window.

His eyes suddenly settled at something unnatural in the window. He squinted, and noticed there was a wooden plank stretching from this room to the hotel on the adjacent side. It was no longer than three meters cross.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to move you now. We cannot risk staying here or the Yakuza will find us sooner or later. Do you think you can manage that much?”

Kaito’s mouth felt dry at the clear worry in Corbeau’s voice, and he only gave a dim nod in response. “Yeah, I’m good,” he forced himself to sit up, and he clenched his teeth at the new spike of pain. He clamped a hand against his side as he stood. He lost his breath for a moment, and the dizziness threatened to send him spiralling, but he managed after swallowing the lump in his throat.

Giving a short nod to the thief, he started climbing up the window and out on the plank. The wind howled in his ears and on his clothes. He could feel a hand on his shoulder from behind, as though Corbeau was ready to pull him back in if he stumbled, or grab him if he fell. He stood there for a moment till he felt the warmth of the other man on his back. Without hesitating, he looked straight forward at the window on the opposite end and started to walk.

He ignored everything, the wind, the cold, the height and the pain. Only focused on the warmth on his back and his slow breath as he took one step at the time. He could do this, had done this many times with eyes closed. He could do this in his sleep, he was sure. Ignore the pain, focus on the task, he told himself on repeat. Suddenly and sooner than expected, he grasped the windowsill on the other side. Without pausing he hoisted himself inside, and laid down on the bed with a relieved sigh.

He swiped a hand across his nose and felt the crackling of dried blood. At least he had stopped bleeding, he would take that as a win. He wondered how long he had been allowed to drift on the bed in the other room. Remembering he was not alone, he glanced towards the window. There was no sight of Corbeau. Suddenly a flood of disappointed waved through him as he realized, of course the thief would go somewhere else. He had saved Kaito’s life after all, his job was done.

He only wished he had a chance to at least thank him for it. Just as the thought ended, he saw movement as a sheet of cloth flew through the window and landed on the edge of the bed. It only took Kaito a minute to realize it was the bedsheet from the other room. He could see blotches of both wet and dry blood on it.

His lips parted slightly in shock – Corbeau was cleaning the room from any evidence. If the Yakuza saw the blood they could use it to identify Kaito. He hadn’t even thought about that – Corbeau was really thorough, saving him from things he had not even considered to be worried about. As the warm feeling of gratitude spread in his chest, he saw the thief climb through the window. At the same motion he grabbed the wooden plank and reeled it in. He laid it down in the room before starting to dissemble it into several pieces that would fit neatly in a big.

Kaito was awed at the thoroughness of it all – that explained why he had never been caught. He had not even noticed the plank came in several pieces. Corbeau returned to the window and stuck his head out. There was some movement that Kaito could not see, but he saw a long curved stick in one of his hands. After a moment, he concluded that the thief must be closing the window on the opposite end, in order to create as little suspicion as possible.

As he withdrew his head, Kaito could hear the sound of a rip, then frantic movement followed by a set of swearing. Corbeau turned his back to him, a hand covering his right cheek as he looked around for something.

Kaito sighted from the bed. “It’s alright, mum. You don’t have to keep up the pretence anymore.”

Corbeau froze to a still – barely looking as though he was even breathing. After a moment that felt like forever, he dropped his hand and turned around. The latex mask was dangling in a stripe on the left side. “How long did you know?” the voice was no longer that of Kaitou Corbeau, but that of the familiar lilt of his mother.

“My name,” he wheezed as he sat up with some pillows supporting his back. “Corbeau never knew my name. Besides,” his lips curled up ever so slightly, “you still wear the same lavender perfume.”

Chikage ripped off her wig and pulled the ruined latex mask off. She barely looked winded – her mascara was still impeccable and only a strand of hair was out of place. Kaito wondered what kind of magic left her look so perfect despite having fought with eight men while wearing layers of latex. The only thing that looked out of place was a glow of her skin from sweat that could easily be explained away by glitter foundation.

“It was necessary. For the sake of appearance I needed to wear some, otherwise I would be a sore thumb. High end ladies always wear a staggering amount of perfume,” she dropped it on a counter as she disappeared into the closest bathroom. After a minute, she came back, holding a small medicine kit. She sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the kit.

“How is the pain?” she asked as she started to clean Kaito’s nose.

“Manageable,” he grunted, and closed his eyes slightly as the disinfecting alcohol burned his skin. He cleared his throat to keep himself distracted. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth before?”

Chikage didn’t stop, but she gave an audible sigh. “Like I told you earlier today, you got out. You didn’t want to get involved with what your dad and I had done. You saw the mantle and you walked away. Look where ignoring my warnings got you, almost beaten to death in a staircase. I wanted better things for you,” she gazed down at him with motherly love and sadness.

“No,” he bit out, “I thought you didn’t care about dad. That’s why I’m doing all of this. For years I’ve chased the wrong thing. I thought capturing you would give me answer to all my troubles.”

“Would you have given this all up if you knew I was Kaitou Corbeau, or would you try and help me?”

He closed his mouth at that, and tilted his head slightly to the side. Then he considered her words, and realized she was right. He wouldn’t have been able to stay back and not do anything knowing his mother was playing with something dangerous, the same danger that had gotten his father killed. “I guess not,” he mumbled after a moment.

A small smile tucked in the corner of her lips as she placed the dirty paper pad down next to her. “I know. You have always been the spitting image of your father. Brave, handsome, stubborn,” she pinched his cheek playfully, but not hard enough to pull the skin and bring any pain. “Your father became Kaitou KID so I didn’t have to be the Phantom Lady. I was worried you’d do the same out of obligations. I only wanted the best for you, Kaito. Please understand that.”

He nodded, “I know mum. I do. I’ve been so angry at you for years. I thought you abandoned me and dad.”

She looked down, her sad eyes barely visible behind her eyelashes. “I’d rather you be disappointed in me and out of danger, than get hurt. Like today. I guess all my caution was for naught.” She grabbed his hand between her palms, and kissed them. “I guess expecting you to give up was useless. Not even the truth will make you back down. I wish it would, but I know you too well.”

His lips curled upwards ever so slightly. “Sorry mum. But, I always thought two Kuroba’s working together instead of just one would always be best.”

Chikage grinned slightly back at him. “The family business back together. That said, you need to recuperate. Corbeau needs to lay low for a while. We can figure out what to do from there. Or maybe we should just give up altogether,” the last part was said without any hope, as she knew her son would refuse.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

Kaito and Chikage sat up in unison and stared at each other in surprise. Had they been found already? Anxiety rose once more and left his pulse hammering. A shot of adrenaline dimmed his pain for a moment as his muscles tensed from the fight or flight instinct. He wanted to push his mother behind him, but he knew he would be absolutely useless in a fight right now.

“Mum, you need to –“ he started to whisper, but was abruptly interrupted.

“Not going to happen,” she hissed back. She stood from the bed – she was still wearing her Corbeau outfit. From the vest she produced the card gun. She handed it to Kaito as she approached the door as slowly as she could without making any sound.

There was another polite knock on the door.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m alone,” a familiar voice from the other side of the door said.

Kaito’s heart jumped in surprise, once again the Kuroba’s shared a look of surprise. Before Chikage whispered to him, “is that –“

He nodded.

She looked thoughtful, “can we trust him?”

He hesitated for a moment, before giving a second nod. He did not know much about Conan’s past other than what he had been told. However he had never ratted Kaito out and had gone behind his associates back not only once, but twice, even risk harm to himself, just to help Kaito. Despite all logic, he did indeed trust the detective.

Chikage took his que, unlocked the door, and after a small hesitation opened the door slightly to glance into the gap to make sure he was alone. Kaito could not see anything as the light from the hallway was far too bright. His mother seemed satisfied and opened the door finally and stepped back to allow the newcomer entrance.

Conan stepped into the room, surveyed it in one glance – how much information he soaked up, Kaito could never guess – before settling his gaze on them. “Thank you for letting me in, Chikage-san.”

“How did you know we were here?” Kaito asked from the bed. He was glad to see the detective, but also felt a bit vary.

Conan’s lips twitched, “would take too long to explain. Are you alright, Kaito? You seem a bit… roughed up.”

He hoped the dark room hid the blush that crept up from his collarbone. His heart fluttered a bit at the concern in his gaze. “You should have seen the other guy,” he replied, and he could see his mum rolling her eyes at him from the corner of his eyes. “Speaking of which, how do you two know each other?” he asked curiously. Ever since they had greeted each other earlier at the party, he had wondered just that.

Conan and Chikage shared a quick glance, before he shrugged. “Family friends.”

Kaito frowned, “why can’t I remember ever seeing you then?”

“You played together when you were kids, Kaito. You were probably too young to remember. After Toichi died, we lost touch,” Chikage finally spoke up. She sat down at the edge of the bed, and crossed her legs. “I admit, when I heard you were on my case, I got a bit nervous. I remember the games of cat and mouse last time. I don’t think I’m brilliant enough to play with you.”

Kaito could not recall Conan ever smiling so softly at anyone, his eyes a fond glow, “we had a hunch. Thought it was better if Kaito found it out on his own. It wasn’t for me to say.”

She nodded slightly, “thank you for the courtesy. Albeit, I would rather he not get in any trouble whatsoever. Instead my secret got him horribly hurt –“ she hushed his protest that he wasn’t that hurt, before turning her attention back to the detective, “do send them my regards next time you talk to them. I miss Yukiko’s gossip.”

“Of course, I’d be honoured to,” he gave a small, polite bow of his neck.

Kaito looked back and forward between them during their chat. He felt he was missing vital information, and as though they were being purposely obtuse on revealing any. Apparently, Conan and his family were family friends with his, yet he couldn’t remember meeting them. He recalled his mother talking about a detective that had always been on Kaitou KID’s trail – always spoke of the person with a fond expression. He did not know Conan’s true identity or age. Could it be possible that that detective was no other than Conan?

He did not doubt the possibility. He was certainly clever enough, he had not met anyone who could rival his intelligence. Pluss, he knew his father had been Kaitou KID. The connection was obvious when he thought about it.

He suddenly felt the sharp edge of jealous stab him in the stomach. Conan had been rivals and friends with his father, he was certain of it. They had been closer than he could ever be. He bit his lip hard to keep his thoughts from spiralling. This was probably why Conan was rejecting his every advance – he was regretting sleeping with the son of his old, dead friend. He could not blame the detective, however the revelation felt like a disappointed knot in his chest.

Typical him to fall for someone old enough to be his dad – if not older.

“So,” Conan continued, looking back and forward between them with a concentrated expression, “will you finally give up your search and go back to being innocent civilians?”

Chikage chuckled softly, shook her head, before glancing at her son. “Even if I was, he wouldn’t have let me. No, it seems the Kuroba’s are back at it.”

The detective crossed his arms, but did not seem disappointed at the news. Rather he looked serene, as though he had expected it. “In that case, I suggest we partner up. This is not the place or time for tales. Why don’t you meet me at the agency tomorrow,” he hesitated, before looking at Kaito, “in second thought. By the end of the week, you need to recuperate first. Kaito has my number.” With that, he gave them both a firm nod, before leaving. The door closing behind him jeeringly.

Kaito fell back into the bed and hid his face under his hands. He had gone through so many emotions today, he felt both mentally and physically exhausted. He knew he couldn’t stay here, the longer they did, the larger the chance they would be caught. But right here and now he needed just a few more minutes to relax.

“He sure grew up handsome,” Chikage said in the far distance, he never heard the rest of her sentence, something about children, before he succumbed to sleep.


	6. Chocolate Chip Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 8644
> 
> Published: 13.08.2020

It was closer to a week before he was back on his feet. He had not heard from Conan in that long, and his mother had been out doing who knows what. Kaito was not amused being out of the loop. That morning he got out of bed and felt finally like a normal human being. Thankfully his ribs had not been broken despite the pain.

He got dressed in his favourite jacket – the white winter coat, albeit only a favourite during winter, and draped his scarf around his neck. He played with the fringes, and missed the scarf Aoko had graciously knitted him a few years prior. Despite the mitch matching colours and an obvious flaw in the form of a noticeable hole, he adored it. He had foolishly left it back in Tokyo when he had left, under the belief he wouldn’t need it. He had not expected Las Vegas to be so chilling, even during the winter.

He grabbed a quick meal from the hotel breakfast buffet – simply a cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup and a croissant that he stuffed into a pocket after taking a single bite from it. It was slightly stale as it had most likely been standing on a plate for a few hours. That’s what he get from getting out of bed so late. At least he could be thankful that the coffee was burning hot.

The warm liquid tingled on his tongue and mouth where it burned him, and he felt the warmth seep into his bones despite the cold wind hitting him as he stepped out of the hotel. The sky was a dark grey, the low sun hiding somewhere behind the clouds. He was thankful it wasn’t cold enough to snow.

He started on his trek towards the Agency. Despite his many effort of suppressing his feelings for the detective in light of the knowledge uncovered during the party, he couldn’t help but miss his presence. It was a foolish crush he had developed, and he was well aware it wouldn’t go anywhere, but he kept dreaming regardless. Maybe he had a thing for older men, he mused with amusement.

Arriving at the building, he let himself in with a nod and a smile to the older woman that had asked if he needed help the previous week. She simply shot him a weird glance, before smiling politely. He took the stairs in two, unable to reign in his excitement now that he was almost there. He knew logically there was a chance Conan wouldn’t be there, as he had a tendency to be away. Despite it, he felt the eagerness bubbling in his chest and his heart fluttered in anticipation.

He knocked on the door, waiting for a second, before trying the door. It was open, and he pushed it ajar. Glancing in, he saw a figure sitting behind the receptionist desk, feet on the table and some kind of streaming device on their lap. Either an iPad or a phone – he couldn’t see from the angle.

Kaito was about to greet the detective, when he realized it wasn’t Conan. The man seemed to be around the same age as Kaito, perhaps a bit older. He had short clipped, dark hair, with sideburns reaching almost down to his chin. He wore a red jacket, with a red tie and a dark blue shirt. His whole attire seemed more random colour wise than Aoko.

He did not look up as Kaito entered the office. He coughed politely, but was stanchly ignored. He eyed him some more. So this was the elusive receptionist – only known by a brief passed by comment. Not a single time he had been over or spied on the agency, he had not seen any hair of a receptionist. Perhaps he had been on vacation? At some point he had believed it had all been an inside joke and Conan didn’t have a receptionist at all.

“Is Conan in?” he finally asked.

The man didn’t glance up from his screen – Kaito could hear some laughing track and music originating from the device. “Why’d you recon I know? Cant you see I’m busy here.”

He blinked at the rude reply, and scratched his cheek uncertain what to do. “You are the receptionist. Isn’t that your job?” he replied lamely in his confusion.

At the mentioned, the man took his feet of the table and give the intruder a scowl. “What makes you think I’m a receptionist?” he slammed a hand down on the table to show his outrage. Before abruptly stopping as he furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “Oh yeah, right. No, he’s out. Go away.”

Kaito lifted his eyebrows, a feeling of unease settling in his stomach. Either this was the worst hired secretary in the world, or something was going on. The receptionist picked up his screen, took his feet back on the desk and gave the magician an uninterested wave in the direction of the exit as he started his video again.

He didn’t feel deterred by being dismissed. Instead he turned on his heels and walked straight towards Conan’s office, the feeling of unease twisting to one of concern. Something was definitely wrong, he was sure of it by now.

“Hey,” he heard from behind him, “you can’t go in there! Wait.” There was a sound of ruckus as he presumably hurried out of his comfortable seat. Something fell on the floor.

Kaito did not stop, he opened the door, and froze with his heart jumping in his throat. The room was trashed. All the file cabinets opened, and books laying on the floor. Empty sheets of paper lay scattered everywhere, even some stuck on the lamp in the ceiling. A broken vase lay next to his feet, and the dirt and cactus lay on its side.

In the middle of all this was a man on his knee, he seemed to be shuffling with some papers on the floor. However when the door shot open, he was already turning around, a hand going to his hip out of view – presumably to hover over a gun.

Kaito immediately recognized him as Jigen – the man who had accompanied Conan to the club. He was no longer wearing a fedora – he spotted the hat on top of a closet hanger on a bookshelf. His black hair was collar-length and unevenly cut, even his beard seemed more of a mess than the last time had seen him.

A hand clamped on his shoulder from behind. His entire body tensed, and he unconsciously curled his hand into a fist, ready to fight if need be.

“I told you not to go in here,” a voice hissed threateningly behind him.

“It’s fine, Lupin. I recognize him. He is on of Conan’s associates,” Jigen interrupted him as he stood. He removed his hand from his hip and put down the file he had been shuffling with on top of the desk.

There was a mumbling reply behind him, but the other man did not protest as the hand was removed from his shoulder. “Alright, alright. I haven’t seen him around before though.”

Kaito tilted his head to glance at Lupin. He was leaning against the door frame, with arms crossed and an easy going smirk curling on the corner of his lips. However from the tension in his shoulder and the tightens of skin around his eyes, he could tell that Lupin was pretending to be more relaxed than he was.

“I haven’t seen you around either,” Kaito replied back absentminded, before continuing with a stronger voice. “Lupin? As in Arsene Lupin?”

He brightened up a tad at that. “Yeah, you heard about me?”

“Nope,” he popped the p. “Just the author. Your parents must be a fan.”

He got a scowl in response, and a distracted. “Yeah, yeah, something like that.”

Keeping down a teasing grin of his own, Kaito turned back to Jigen. “What happened here? Where is Conan?”

“Someone trashed the office,” Jigan shrugged nonchalant, but there was a tension in his jaw. “Got to ask the receptionist if you want to know where he has gone.”

Kaito turned towards Lupin with an expectant expression. He got a glare back.

“I’m not the receptionist.”

“Then who is,” he frowned.

“Okay, kid. There is no receptionist,” Jigen replied for him.

“But why did you – “ he abruptly stopped himself. A growing headache started to pulsate on his temple, and he rubbed his index and middle finger against the skin in frustration. They were messing with him, and he gritted his teeth to keep from being rude. “Look, I just want to know if he’s alright. I haven’t heard from him in days. We were supposed to meet up.”

The two strangers shared a look that spoke of an unheard conversation, before identical calculating gazes settled on his form. There was a moment of silence that lasted so long that Kaito considered leaving – the two mysterious people wouldn’t share anything.

“As far as I’m aware he’s fine,” Jigen shot an arm out to indicate their surroundings. “This isn’t the first time the agency has been trashed. Occasionally, the little detective steps on the wrong toes and need to lay low for a while. There’s never been an issue he couldn’t,” there was a slight hesitation as he looked for the correct words, “handle. He’s a capable kid, no need to worry. He’s been through a lot worse.”

Despite his worry, Kaito could tell the older man was sincere in his belief. He crossed his arms. “Does this have anything to do with Vermouth? He did go against her will.”

For the first time since he had entered the room, Jigen seemed rattled. He paled slightly as the duo shared another glance. “What did he do this time?” he swore under his breath. “I thought there was an agreement to stay clear of that vicious woman. But of course, he does whatever the fuck pleases him.”

“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Lupin replied lamely, however he seemed dubious even as he spoke. “Explains why he was so cryptical asking for help with the plan.”

“What plan?” Kaito spoke before he could stop himself, but identical glare was shot towards him, and he closed his mouth hard enough that his teeth clicked together.

“Get out of here,”Jigen said dismissively, already turning around to move around some paper in an attempt to look busy. “I have a lot to clean up before Conan gets back. He will pop up like nothing happened when he’s good and ready.”

“But –“

Lupin put a hand on his shoulder and practically shoved him out of the room. “I’ll show you the way out,” He closed the door after them. “Don’t take it personal. We don’t know who you are and how close you are to all of this. The detective is an old friend. We help him out occasionally, and he return the favour.”

“I’m guessing there is no point asking who you really are?” Kaito said lamely, and he got a small smirk in reply that was all the answer he needed. He did whoever, have a feeling there was something familiar with the two. “I’ll let it go. I don’t want to get anyone in any trouble. I’ll wait to hear from him.”

“I knew you were a reasonable individual,” Lupin hummed happily as he led him to the exit. “Just pretend you were never here, and never saw us, and we will do the same. I think that’s the best for everyone.”

Kaito nodded his agreement and stepped out of the agency. He turned half on his heel to say one last thing. However the door was already closed in his face. A second later he heard a small click that indicated that the door was locked. He raked a hand through his hair with a big sigh. He wondered what he had gotten Conan involved with – he also prayed he was safe and sound somewhere, like Jigen and Lupin believed. He didn’t know what he would do if Conan got hurt because of him.

Leaving the building, he lifted his hands to breathe at them, and rub them together to keep the warmth. Looking left and right, he hesitated – he did not feel like returning to the hotel just yet. He’d been stuck inside doing nothing for days, he needed to stretch his legs. He started down the street opposite of the hotel.

The crowd thickened as he walked towards the more busier and popular streets. Something prickled in the back of his neck, and he swapped at it absentmindedly before pulling the scarf up to his ear. The yellow and green neon lights of a casino flickered in the corner of his eyes.

“Don’t go, I love you,” a voice boomed from a building. Kaito slowed down his pace and turned his head in morbid curiosity. A woman stood in an open door – she wore white leopard-patterned pyjamas and green crocs. She wore a purple, wool sweater: her left shoulder was bare as she crossed her arms. A petite face was framed by light-brown hair that reach her mid. Her glasses lay low on her nose, and her grey-coloured eyes were red from tears.

The man who had previously rushed out of the house, turned on his heel to face her with an angry expression. “You always fucking do this,” he hissed angrily like a snake. He held a green winter jacket in his left arm – seemingly stormed out before having the time to dress. His black boots were still untied, and the belt around his belt was unclasped. His head was filled with ginger curls. “You are being unfair, and you fucking know it.” He continued, waiting for a reply. When she only pursed her lips harder, he gave her a vicious glare. “Not going to say anything? That’s typical. Of course. What else can I expect from a witch like you.”

He stumbled back another couple of steps. Looked to his right, his shoulders tensed and ready to bolt at any given moment. He suddenly turned back to gaze at her – Kaito could not read the flickering of emotions. “You are a manipulative cunt.” He then turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

The woman almost sagged against the doorsill, and she pushed up her glasses as she wiped away the tears under her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. Kaito approached her slowly.

“Tiffany, are you alright?”

She looked up as he spoke with a surprised expression, before recognition flickered across her face. Last time he had seen her, she had been blond – maybe it had been a wig, he recalled her mentioning something about that – outside in the line at the Blue Dragon where she had tried to flirt with him. “Oh, you are the guy from the club.”

“The one and only,” he gave her a lame grin back. “How have you been?”

She lowered her eyes for a moment, before peering out at the crowd. Some bystanders were still staring at them with curious expressions. She gave them a short smile, before turning her attention back to him. “This isn’t really the place for a conversation,” she hesitated for a moment, then, seemingly making up her mind, she stepped back, holding the door open. “Would you like to come in for some coffee or tea? I just made a batch of cookies if you have a sweet tooth.”

“I’d love to,” he replied with warmth – it was not like he had anywhere else to be. He could also sense that she needed some company. He followed her into the building, and up a set of stairs. The hallway contained three doors leading into separate apartment. She led him to the door in the furthest corner.

A small plaque on the door read her name accompanied with the drawing of a black and white cat. She let him into the apartment, and the first thing that wafted towards him was the smell of home made sweets. He inhaled greedily – it smelled like white chocolate. Opening his eyes fully – at some point he had almost closed his eyes in pleasure – and looked around the modest yet cosy room.

There was an open door to the left that lead to the bedroom. The blinders were still on, and he could see the bed was a mess with clothes thrown around. Turning back to face his hostess, she had already stepped out of her crocs and standing in the kitchen. It wasn’t a big one by any stretch, but more than big enough for one person.

The oven was still on, and she leaned over to turn it off. A grid occupied the space on top of the oven – it was filled with baked cookies. The were no living-room to speak off, only a small, rectangular table underneath a window facing the casino. A vase with a single, yellow flower sat in the windowsill. Two white, matching chairs surrounded the table.

“Just get comfy,” Tiffany said absentminded as she shuffled through her cabinets. A moment later she withdrew three plates and two mitch matching cups from a shelf. She put the cups on the table just as Kaito sat down on one of the chairs. “Is tea fine? Or should I brew some more coffee?” she seemed like she was bursting with nervous energy, almost like a butterfly.

Kaito grabbed her delicate hand in his before she could withdraw. With a soft expression he brushed his thumb over her knuckles as he met her gaze. “Tea is fine. Thank you.”

She flashed him a small but genuine smile, and her shoulders lowered ever so slightly. The change was transformative as just the small act of kindness and comfort calmed her. He let go of her a second later as the kettle peeped. She stepped back into the kitchen, removed it from the socket and filled the tea cups.

A moment later she returned with the third plate – now filled with cookies – and a box filled with several kinds of tea. “I don’t know what you prefer, so take your pick,” she sat down adjacent to him. she didn’t even look at the box as she plucked one out of the small niches with habited movements. He managed to get a glimpse of the package as she tore it apart. Liquorice and peppermint tea, it read.

“I’m sure you are curious about what happened,” she said without looking at him. She plopped her teabag into the cup, then folded her hands and leaned back on her chair.

“I’d be lying if I didn’t,” he replied, his eyes strained at the many type of teas. Was today a fruity tea day, or green tea or black tea. You could never go wrong with earl grey.

“He cheated on me,” she continued, not looking particularly mad, more reserved. “Again. I know what you are going to say. All my friends and family do. Why do you keep taking that low scum back, Tiffany. You deserve better, Tiffany. There are plenty fish in the see,” she gave a big sigh.

Kaito had finally managed to decide on a green tea, and was not particular about the flavour as he absentmindedly shred open the package and put the bag in his cup more careful than she had. “For the record,” he started, “I hadn’t intended to say any of that.”

Tiffany stared at him quietly for a moment, before a lip twitched upwards slightly. “Thanks for not judging me. Cookie?”

He accepted the offered biscuit with a grateful smile, and bit into it. It was still warm and melted on his tongue – it tasted like white chocolate, hazelnuts and vanilla. It was truly heaven. “Excuse me for saying this, but he was a fool leaving before he got a taste of your baked goods. These are divine. I’m glad its me and not him sitting here right now.”

She beamed at his compliment, “I use real vanilla you see. Half cane sugar and half white sugar. They are a calorie bomb, but they are worth every single bite,” she took a bit of her own, before laying it down on her plate, and promptly looked like she forgot about its existence. “It’s not that easy. With John and me I mean. We are soulmates.”

Kaito frowned at her, and opened his mouth even though it was filled with crumbles. She stopped him before he had any chance to reply as she held up her palm.

“I know, I know. We can’t possibly know while we are both, you know, alive. But I just know, deep in my soul, that John is my soulmate. He might as well be with how we act around each other. I don’t know who started it or when, but we always dance around each other, and we always come crawling back, even though what we have isn’t healthy in the slightest.”

He swallowed his mouthful and took a sip of the tea as she spoke. “What do you mean?”

Her left hand flickered over the fabric over her right collarbone – usually where a soulmark would reside. “Soulmates are so romanticised you know. In Hollywood and movies, and young teenage girls gossip about it. The tabloids’ always talking about a bolt of lightning from love at first sight. It’s all rubbish,” absentmindedly she almost drilled her fingers into the fabric, and her grey eyes seems almost to be made of liquid steal as she stared at a spot over Kaito’s shoulder.

“I think it’s all rubbish personally,” she continued. “Just because you are drawn to each other doesn’t mean you should love each other. Not everyone has a chance to love their soulmates, you know. With all the accidents around the world. Fate is a rubbish cruel thing.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to comment – she was entirely too young to be so bitter, he felt. He licked his lips slowly. “You are not wrong, but. What does this have to do with you and John?”

Her lips curled upwards ever so slightly, but lacked any warmth. “What if its all just a lie and a coincidence. Everywhere I look I see the same mundane phrases over and over again. Like, ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘see you later’, phrases anyone could say. What if we secretly have more than one soulmate? No one’s ever thought abut that.”

Kaito gave a one shouldered shrug in response, “I suppose its not something we can ever really know. For all we know, it’s all rubbish anyway and the marks are just random birthmarks that coincidentally look like writing.”

Tiffany grinned at him, “that’s a good one. I’m going to use that.”

He took another bite of the cookie. “Feel free, if you feel bitter enough to discuss the topic with someone else inn the future. How come you think John is your soulmate?”

The previous humour drained from her face, and her eyes lowered until she was staring at her cup of tea. She picked up a spoon, lifted the teabag out of the water, and put it on her plate. “He always come back – out of necessity or love, I don’t really know at this point. Whenever he leave, I tell him,” she pursed her lips as she said the next phrase mockingly, “’don’t go, I love you’.”

“What’s the significance of that?” Kaito mirrored her actions as he removed his tea bag as well.

“That’s what his soulmark says,” she didn’t meet his gaze, and her eyes were hidden underneath her eyelashes. “I’m not proud of it, but it’s the most spiteful I can be. If I never see him again, it means I was his soulmate and he has to live knowing that while treating me like piss.” The hand hovering over her collarbone started to pull at the fabric. “You might think me a terrible person, hadn’t it been for this.”

She pulled down sweater completely, uncovering the marked skin. Written in bold yet cursive letters read the words ‘ _You are a manipulative cunt’_. Kaito inhaled sharply – felt a bang of sympathy in his stomach. What a sentence to be born with. He had believed his had formed his life, he could not imagine what she had been through.

“Looks like,” he cleared his voice, “you are terrible together. If he hadn’t believed your words, he wouldn’t have said them back. So your life is connected to each other through bitterness. And if either one of you dies before you meet again, then its an indirective proof that you were soulmates?” He shook his head at the incredulity, he had never heard of a case like this before. On the other hand, the matter of soulmarks were a personal topic. “That’s basically a self-fulfilling prophecy. Forcing fate’s hand. You never know whether or not it was true, but you have to live with it regardless.”

“Yeah,” she wore a thin smile as she put the sweater back on and dropped her hands. “Precisely my point. Soulmates are dumb, there is literally no point of them, except to create more heartache than necessary. Sure, it’s all sweet and romantic in Hollywood, but in the real life? It just plain out suck. There is no logic or reason as to why we are born with these dumb words. Imagine a life without them, no one would be nonethewiser. You would simply just love your partner and mourn them as the better part of your heart regardless of whether or not you were bound together by faith,” she threw a hand in the air for the dramatic flair as she continued, “what about the unmarked ones? They still love and get married, yet they know for certain that their partners isn’t their soulmate. They don’t seem to care one bit. Love is love.”

Kaito hesitated for a moment and bit his lip, wondering how much he should share, before deciding he could trust her. She had, unprompted, told her deepest secrets to a mere stranger, she had trusted him for whatever reason. Most likely due to convenience, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“I sort of have feelings for someone who has already found and lost their soulmate,” he mumbled down in his tea, losing his nerve by the time he finished the sentence.

Tiffany sat up, a new energic gleam in her eyes at the titbit of gossip. The tension on her shoulders drained out, indicating a relief that the focus was on a different topic. “Is he cute?”

Not having expected that question, he could not keep down a blush. “No. He isn’t cute at all.”

Her lips curled downwards into a frown in disappointment, “but –“

“I wouldn’t call him cute. He is way too attractive to be classified as cute,” he interrupted her with a sly grin, “his cheekbones are so perfect that I wouldn’t be surprised if he was what inspired the chiselling of David.”

Tiffany giggled at his description, “I wouldn’t have taken you for a poet.”

Letting the teasing smile drain from his lips, he gave a one sided shrug. “I can appreciate good art, even though I don’t own many pieces. The point is, he is an unreachable standard. Far too intelligent for his own good, I think. There is just something about him that has me feeling so small and insignificant, but when he looks at me with those eyes and that smile, I feel like the most important person in the world.”

“Damn son,” she swore, “you should see yourself. You look smitten. Must really love this boy of yours.”

Looking away, he scratches his neck in embarrassment. “I’d rather not think about it in those terms, if you don’t mind.”

“Sorry,” she gave him a soft, sympathizing look, “I wish I had what you had. It sounds almost magical.”

“But not meant to be,” he hummed.

“What makes you say that?”

“Weren’t you just listening?” he groused back, “he has already lost his soulmate. That’s a ghost I can’t possibly compare to. His heart will always belong to her. He is also a lot older than me,” he trailed off as he let his arm drop. A wave of disappointed shook through him. He regretted speaking out loud. So far he had only been monologuing with his insecurities and feelings. Talking about it made them all the more real and sadder.

“Sure but,” Tiffany did not seem deterred, “what if my hypothesis is correct? What if we have more than one soulmate? He was meant to be with her until she died, and now he is meant to be with you.”

Taking a big sip of his tea, he rolled his eyes. “What happened to not being a romantic, Tiffany? I thought you hated all of that stuff.”

She leaned back on her chair with a pout. “A girl can dream can’t she? Live vigorously through others. Most people won’t get their fairy tale ending, but I still wish to see it with my own eyes.”

“Everyone always want to be the exception. I’m certainly aint,” he placed the cup back down and stood from his seat. “Thanks for the tea, but I think I should be on my way.” He grabbed for his jacket and put it on.

“Kaito,” Tiffany looked up at him with sad eyes, “you don’t have to go. Stay, please.”

He had already made up his mind, and simply shook his head. As he turned to leave, she grabbed his hand.

“At least take some cookies with you, I cant eat them up all by my lonely self,” her grey eyes no longer looked like molten steal, now they looked like the silver of the moon. Kind and compassionate.

He relented, could not say no to that expression. He let her manhandle him into accepting a small box of a few biscuits before he was out the door. As he reached the end of the staircase, he looked up at the girl standing on the top of the staircase.

She looked so lonely and lost, and his heart ached for her. She was in an impossible situation, one filled with abuse and heartache, and no way out. He wished there was something he could do for her.

“Hey Tiffany,” he waited a moment, before continuing, “you are a manipulative cunt.”

Her mouth opened in shock, and she seemed to almost melt against the banister. Her eyes filled with tears – although he could not tell they were of gratitude or something else, there was a softness of her face that shone with affection. Before she had any chance to reply, he turned on his heel and left. The door closed heavily behind him.

The crowd was more denser as he stepped back into the street. The sun had started to shine through the clouds above, and he shaded his eyes as he stared upwards. Despite the weak sun, it still burned his eyes. He contemplated his options, he could return to the hotel and get some rest – he felt a bit exhausted from the events that had transpired so far. On the other hand, the thought of returning tasted bitter on his tongue. He imagined the stuffy, dimmed room smelling of sweat and sickness.

He knew it was just a figment of his imagination, the room service cleaned it every other day, however he could not keep the negative picture at bay when thinking about the room. He felt a wave of homesickness churn in his stomach. He had already been in Las Vegas for a few weeks longer than anticipated. He let himself dream about sleeping in his own bed, of eating dinner with Aoko and her husband, and the laughter from Yukio as he showed him a new magic trick.

The boy had his father’s hair colour – a dusty blond shade, and his mother’s uneven curls. Yet his smile was affectionate and infectious. He missed him – Yukio was the closest he would ever get to a nephew and having a child of his own.

Something prickled in the back of his head. His feet started to move on their own as he started down the street. He remembered feeling the same earlier after leaving the agency – the distinctive feeling he was being watched. He had hoped it was simply a figment of his imagination, however he was sure now. He tilted his head slightly, and from the corner of his eyes he saw two figures further down the street.

The two figures wore anonymous clothing – matching fedora’s, coats and cravats. They looked identical to any other businessman on the street. However, with Kaito having an inkling as to whom had come after the detective, the knowledge the two men were Japanese rang instant warning bells in his head.

He forced a slow pace as he continued on his trek, not wanting to alert them that he knew they were there. After a few minutes of taking the scenic route, he curved across the motorway to Fremont street. The early afternoon had passed, and now a various of street performance stood every fifteen feet on this popular street. A girl in a comically large and purple top-hat was entertaining a couple of kids with simple yet flawless card flourishes. A mime was standing a few feet behind her.

Kaito stepped past a juggler, their eyes met and he nodded miniscule to the performer. He fished up a handful of spare change that he dropped into the coloured glass by his feet. He did not stop walking through the exchange and continued diagonally across a backstreet. There was suddenly a clutter of sound behind him.

“Oh. I’m sorry sir, I didn’t see you there. Let me help you –“

He couldn’t help the small grin that twitched on his lip as he glanced behind him. The crowd had stopped to view the spectacle: the juggler had tripped one of the Japanese men, while the other had gotten a few objects in his head. The performer was in the middle of helping the first guy up, while brushing dirt of the other one’s jacket while apologizing profoundly.

They looked impatient and slightly angry as they tried to brush him off, telling him it was fine. By the time they could return their attention to their target, Kaito was long gone. As the commotion started, he had abruptly changed direction as he crept between two buildings. With hurry steps he approached the door at the end of the alleyway, knocked the secret password and slipped through the door in a matter of seconds.

Upon arrival, he nodded towards some acquaintances he had made while becoming a regular at the Herrmann bar. He ignored their greetings and offer of joining them with a movement of his hand to indicate he was busy. He was glad to see Kenya working the bar. He was in a conversation with a client.

Once approached, the bartender looked up at him with a smile. “Kaito! I wasn’t expecting you this early.”

The client turned towards him as well, and he recognized him immediately as Jim Barnett. “Ah. Long time no seen –“

“Not here for a social call,” he interrupted them, he flashed them an apologetic smile as he removed his scarf and wrestled himself out of his white jacket. “I need your coat.”

Barnett frowned, however handed him the coat he had hanging from his chair. It was dark brown, and a bit weathered. It was perfect, would blend into the crowd perfectly. “It’s the least I could do after bailing my sorry arse out of danger. You in any trouble?”

Kaito casually threw his previous jacket over a chair as he put the jacket on. “Someone’s following me,” he replied absentminded as he put his wallet and phone into the new pockets. “Do you have a cap of some sort Kenya?”

The bartender stood, he had previous been quiet and staring at him with worried glances, now he looked ready for action. “Yeah. I should have something suitable in the lost and found box.” He beckoned for Kaito to follow him into the backroom.

He followed after picking up his other clothes, and nodded a thanks to Barnett. “I’ll return your coat when I can.”

“You can keep it for all I care. I owe you my life,” he grunted a reply, he sat staring at them with a frown. “Do let us know if there’s anything else we can do for you.”

He flashed him a grin before disappearing into the room. “I’d rather not, your clothes are rubbish.”

The room was dimly lit with only a blinking lightbulb above. It flickered as he past underneath it. The hallway was small, and three doors on his right led into what he assumed were either offices or storage facilities. Kenya lead him to the end of the corridor that opened up to a spacious room. An emergency door stood on his immediate right, with a few cloth hangers occupied by different article of clothing was next to it.

On his left was a table with a box. Kenya was already rooting through it. A moment later he handed Kaito a baseball cap with the words ‘I <3 LAS VEGAS’ written in bold letters. He accepted it and immediately put it on and pushed the cap as far down in his face as he could.

“Any sunglasses?”

“Should be,” Kenya turned back to the box. “Your troubles doesn’t happen to have something to do with that detective you’ve been courting, does it?”

He was too filled with adrenaline to blush at the statement. Instead of replying, he leaned over the bartender’s left shoulder and plucked the first pair of sunglasses he could see. He pushed them over his nose.

Taking the hint that he didn’t intend to reply, Kenya just sighed deeply. “Just stay safe alright? You can leave through the backdoor,” he pointed towards the emergency exit. “It leads to the casino.”

Kaito nodded his thanks and unlocked the door. Before stepping through he glanced towards his friend. “Keep my jacket safe, I’ll come back for it.” The door clicked closed behind him. immediately the sound of music and fake chimes of winning slot machines. Murmurs from a crowd filled his ears.

He did not stop as he pushed passed some obese tourists staring greedily at the Blackjack table. Returning once again to the street, he did not look around – to keep from drawing attention to him – and he pushed the collar of his jacket over his ears as he started in a random direction. He knew the street system well. He took the long route back to the hotel, paranoid to his surroundings. However he did not see his stalkers again, nor anyone else. He had managed to shake them off.

Next time he saw Kenya and Barnett, he would definitely pay for drinks.

By the time he returned to the hotel, he was hungry and tired. The only thing he had eaten that day was a cookie and half a croissant. He considered leaving to pick up some food, but changed his mind. He could always just order room service. As he touched his pockets, he suddenly realized he had forgotten Tiffany’s gift of cookies in his other jacket. Disappointment churned his stomach, he had been looking forward to eating them, and was saddened that he had completely forgotten about it in his adrenaline filled hurry.

He took the elevator up to his floor, too tired to take the tree steps of stairs after walking all afternoon. He did not meet anyone in the corridor as he walked to his door. He felt a rush of hesitation as he reached it. The door handle was in the wrong angle – the maids wouldn’t wash it before the next day. Someone had been in his room.

He considered bolting. The intruder might still be here. Biting his lip, he felt torn. If they had trashed Conan’s office, then he might be next. He shook his head a moment later – it wasn’t possible. Even if they had recognized him outside of Conan’s agency, it would take more than a few hours to track down his residence. There was a larger chance that were instructed to follow everyone who did visit the office, than that they were targeting him specifically.

Alternatively, he could just pack his bags and find a new hotel. His mind finally made up, he unlocked the door and opened it ajar. At first glance the room was untouched. His clothes were still where he had left them that morning. Pushing It open an inch more, he held his breath as he saw something foreign on the bed. It looked to be a square box –

“There you are,” someone’s face appeared in the opening of the door, and his heart jumped to his throat as he tripped on his own feet in his hurry to scramble backwards. He fell on the floor with a soft thump due to the carpet. Pain travelled from his arse and up his spine.

Chikage opened the door fully to peer down at him. Her eyes glittered with humour, and her lips were pursed up as though she was making an attempt to not laugh at him. “If you can get your lazy bum off the floor and come in, we brough pizza.”

“We?” he wheezed dumbly as he stiflingly picked himself up. His mother had already gone back inside. Now that it was mentioned, he could smell pizza wafting towards him, and his mouth was filled with saliva as his stomach grumbled hungrily. Despite his annoyance of his mother just making herself at home without texting him first, he could not find himself able to stay irritated for long as his mind was focused on how godsent she was for bringing food.

Just as he closed the door and plopped down on the bed and opened the box – the bathroom door suddenly open, and a familiar figure stepped out of it. Conan gave him a lopsided smile in greetings.

“Sorry about the sudden invasion, but Chikage was adamant that you wouldn’t mind if we waited here. I’d have texted you, but I don’t currently carry a phone for security issues.”

All the stress of the day suddenly vanished, and a flutter in his chest warmed him. Part of him wanted to jump out of bed and embrace the detective – check if he was alright or was hurt. However, he knew the gesture wouldn’t be welcomed, so he stayed where he was. He had to clear his voice before he managed to reply through the lump of feelings clogging his throat.

“Went to your office today. Thought you were going to lay low.”

Conan gave a nonchalant shrug as he sat down on the only chair in the room. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said dismissively. His eyes tracked Chikage as she handed him a cup before sitting down next to her son.

“I’m glad you are alright,” he persisted, needing to at least express his feelings somehow.

The detective flashed him a smile in reply, “you don’t have to worry about me. Now,” he tapped a finger at the table in front of him. “While you recuperated, Chikage and I have been busy planning. Why don’t you tell him what you told me?”

He felt disappointed at the casual dismissal, but forced the feelings to the back of his mind as he sat up a little straighter. The item Conan had gestured to was a blueprint of three buildings. He immediately recognized them as some high-up-end hotels.

“I wasn’t after any jewels on last week’s heist,” Chikage started as she picked up her purse that was leaning against the bed. “It was just a cover. I was after Shimada’s invitation,” she plucked out an envelope. The paper was of a soft, pastel purple colour. “This right here, is the invitation to the annual… what should I call it, villain party?” her mocking grin did don’t reach her eyes, “it’s a masquerade party so everyone is anonymous. No one will know who stole Shimada’s invitation. There is an important item I’ve been looking for for years, and it will be here in Las Vegas only for that evening.”

“What are you looking for?” he couldn’t help but ask.

Chikage flashed him a soft smile, “it’s a music box. The last item your father stole. The ballerina is holding a large red ruby. It was taken from his possession. Toichi said he had found something, some vital information, but he died before he told me. Jii-san told me on the day of Toichi’s last performance that he had had an envelope in his dressing room. After the fire, it wasn’t amongst any of the recovered items. I have a reason to believe your father hid it in the music box.”

Kaito nodded, that sounded like something his father would have done if he was afraid of being caught. “So we just need to get in and open the vault? That doesn’t seem hard.”

“That’s not the problem,” Conan finally spoke. “The top floors of these three buildings are all rented out to the same corporation. All of them, for the sake of rich clients that stay at their facilities, are equipped with high tech, impregnable vaults. In truth, we don’t know where they intend to stash the music box.”

“My original idea,” Chikage picked up where the detective stopped,” had been to only target the main event. I couldn’t do much as only one person. I was going to take a chance and pray I was right. But we are three now,” a grin twitched on her lips and her eyes glittered mischievously, “we can easily hit all three the vaults at the same time.”

Kaito rubbed his hands as he glanced down on the blueprints. Excitement prickled from his toes to his fingers. He had never done anything like this, and he couldn’t help the anticipation. Despite his previous moral issues with theft, he suddenly couldn’t help but not care anymore. He was finally working together with his mother – it was not exactly how he had pictured it. But there was a thrill knowing he was standing in his parents’ shoes for once.

“What’s the plan then?”

Conan and Chikage shared a quick glance, before his mother held up a hand in defeat. The detective then turned his attention to Kaito. “Your mother has agreed to keep Kaitou Corbeau out of this. This place will be crawling with the heads of organized crime all across the world. It would be foolish to not keep this on the low end. We will be in and out before anyone knows what happened.”

From the corner of his eyes, he could see her stick his tongue out at him, and she mumbled something undistinguishable under her breath.

“Chikage insisted on taking the main building,” he pointed to the blueprint on the far left. “This is where the party will be. She can steal one of the keys to the vault – we have reason to believe that Horace Velmont might have one of them. Providing he isn’t covering his eyes, his heterochromia will make him easy to identify. As for myself,” he pointed to the blueprint of the building closest to Kaito.

“This facility is currently closed for renovation, which made it quite obvious something is going on when its rented out,” with a short smirk that sent a new wave of butterfly to Kaito’s stomach, he rolled his eyes, “only snipers and guards will be patrolling the upper floors. I’ll knock them out, and break open the vault. I have some fun toys I’ve been looking for a chance to try out.”

Conan looked almost dangerous as he spoke, his smile toothed and his eyes glittered. Kaito had never before been so attracted to him.

“What about me?” he asked curiously as he studied the building in the middle, “I assumed I am to hit the third building?”

The detective nodded and shot Chikage a glance that she returned.

“Truth be told, we haven’t managed to flesh that out yet,” his mother smiled thinly, “only the top floors are rented out, while the bottom ones are filled with civilians. I think the two floors in the middle is rented out to a large bachelor party. We might be able to get you into the party as a waiter. However the top floors are the VIP rooms, and only connects to the rest of the hotel by a single elevator here.” She pointed at the map. “It’s going to be tricky: Conan would have done it, but we need him in the other building to crack open the vault. Unlike the others, that one isn’t accessible by a key card.”

He suddenly realized that they didn’t have much faith in his abilities, and he could not blame them. He was not a professional thief or a part of the criminal world. A week ago, he had never broken a law directly – except maybe toying the line a little. They were keeping him away from the danger, but did not know how to include him and his abilities. And well, Kaito wasn’t sure either what he could bring to the table. He was only a magician.

He folded his hands as disappointment lay heavy on his shoulder. He felt useless. He had been the one who had insisted he was involved, the one person who refused to give up, yet he was helpless. Without Conan and Chikage, he could do nothing. He was forcing them to help him and put their lives in danger – maybe forcing was a big strong word, but right there and then it felt like it, as they were helping only because he refused to give up – meanwhile he had absolutely nothing to bring to the table.

Conan was the one who had found Corbeau for him, not once but twice. Something Kaito had failed doing for fifteen years – and to make things worse, the thief was his very own mother. He had been blind to it for so long.

“Would one of the guards have the key-card?” he asked softly, staring at his own hands, wrecking his brain for an idea.

Chikage shuffled closer to him, and put one of her hands on top of his. “One of the thugs that guards the elevator should have it, but Kaito,” her voice dripped with sympathy and concern, “this might be very dangerous. Are you sure you want to continue? Just say the word, and we will give up right now and be on the first plane back to Japan. No one would blame you, you have worked so hard. There is no shame in giving up.”

His jaw clenched at the idea, and his stomach churned. Was he really willing to just leave it like this? No, he decided, he couldn’t. He had gotten hurt last time, sure, but it only steeled his resolve. He was not ready to give up just yet, just a little more, he just needed to know. There had to be a way for him to be useful, something only he could bring to the table. What does bachelor parties always have? This was Vegas, it was filled with casinos and performers and –

A lightbulb suddenly lit up in his head. And immediately started roaming through his pockets. “I have an idea,” he gushed out, not able to hold back his excitement. He pulled out his wallet, opened it and withdraw a card. He couldn’t help the grin that twisted on his lips. Finally, finally something he could bring to the table.


	7. the Heist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 8013
> 
> Published: 18.08.2020

“Stop fuzzing, you look fine,” Tiffany said as she raked a pin through his fringes and attached it to the side, creating a – what he presumed – was a perfect arch. She stared at her through her eyelashes – they looked impossibly long due to the mascara. Her eyes looked blue, the steel grey transformed due to the shade of the blue eyeshadow. She had told him, despite the allure of her unique eyes, a lot of people also found them cold and unapproachable.

She was back wearing her blond wig – it was currently in a ponytail, with a braid going from her temple to the scrunchy. She wore a skimpy outfit, a bright shade of red that matched her lipstick, and black high-heels that made her legs looked like they lasted forever.

Kaito fidgeted, and pulled the ends of his dress again in the hope they would magically become an inch longer and hide his tights. He wore a black dress that covered his chest and shoulder – unlike Tiffany, who wore a deep neck that had the breast almost dip out whenever she moved. He glanced passed her to the mirror. The sight that met him was that of an unfamiliar yet attractive woman.

He felt a bit sweaty under the latex mask – he had not worn one in years, and he was lucky his mother had one that fit him. Somehow they made his eyes look larger than usual, and the green contact lenses made him look doe-like. The shade of the eyeshadow made his eyes go from leaf green to sparkle like an emerald. A red wig curled at his temple, and was braided down his back. Whenever he moved, he could feel the end brush against his back.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” he swallowed at the lump of nerves in the back of his throat. He had started to regret this plan – however he knew he could not back down now. Conan and his mother were depending on him to do his part. He refused to be a sack of potatoes and a liability.

“Sugar,” she cooed at him, “you look gorgeous. No one’s going to even consider the thought you are a guy. You are sex on legs, and never forget it,” she grinned impishly as she lightly slapped his buttocks to get her point across.

He couldn’t help the flush that crept up from his collarbone. He turned towards the mirror and twisted his hip to see how the fabric of the dress brushed against his thigh as he did. He had no issue with the high heels – used to wear them as part of his performances. Fish nets covered his legs, and he had to admit. He did look good. He wondered what Conan would say when he saw him.

“We might want to return to the party,” Tiffany continued as she corrected another strand of hair. “The bachelor party is sufficiently drunk by now.”

“I appreciate the help,” he turned his focused back to her. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you and the girls for helping out.

She waved a hand dismissively, “we love any excuse to dress up and have fun. We do this practically every weekend, besides,” her lips curled up into a mischievous smile. “You did promise you’d model for us in exchange. Its exactly what the model agency needs.”

“Thank you for not asking so many questions,” he replied with a lopsided smile, “this means more to me then you can ever imagine.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” she grabbed his hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “That’s what friends do. I know we haven’t known each other longer, but you didn’t judge me for my actions, so I will return the favour. What you said to me the other day, meant the world to me. So really, I’m the one who has to thank you.”

A knock on the door broke the moment, and they stepped away from each other with soft looks as they turned towards the sound. “Tiffany? Kaito? You guys coming out? The bachelor party decided to try get to the roof in their drunken state, wondered if you lot wanted to join?”

Kaito lifted an eyebrow, “how are they going to get to the roof? Thought the only access to the upper levels were through the VIP elevator.”

The door opened, and a dark-brown haired woman stuck her head in. Her skin seemed to glow of molten bronze and her eyes were almost black. She wore a green cocktail dress that showed off her cleavage. “The receptionist gave them an access card that goes only up to the roof. They have a pool and a garden up there,” her eyes glittered in excitement at the prospect. “Also those warm lights, what do you call them again? Heaters? We wont freeze at any rate.”

Kaito and Tiffany shared a glance, before their expressions turned impish.

“That’s the perfect opportunity to approach the guards,” she whispered to him, and he nodded in agreement.

“We will be right there, Mal. Just need to apply some more lipstick first,” he replied to the newcomer, as he fished up a shade of pink lipstick from seemingly out of nowhere. Turning to the mirror, he applied it with practiced fingers

Watching him, Tiffany looked impressed at his technique. “If I hadn’t know better, I’d think you were a professional drag queen.”

He shot her a mysterious smile, “maybe I am. You never know.”

The girls giggled, before hounding him out of the bathroom. Immediately the sound of music and laugher washed over them. A man approached the trio, his gait unsteady as he clearly had consumed a drink too much. He had a skewed party hat on his head, and a single stripe of confetti was stuck to his beard.

“Girls,” he hiccupped as the threw an arm around Mal’s waist and leaned forward to breathe into her neck. A ripple of disgust and annoyance flickered across her face, before turning her million watt smile to the full. She was a better actress than him, Kaito mused, glad he wasn’t the target. “I wondered where you had gone though. We are heading to the roof, come come,” he cooed at them.

They followed him back into the party room to mingle with the others. The group was a mixture of thirty or so men, and excluding the trio exciting the bathroom, twelve more models. There was also a woman who was a member of the bachelor party. He had heard somewhere she was the cousin of the groom-to-be. She was shorter than all the models, with mouse-brown hair and eyes a little to close together to be considered attractive. She also wore a blazer as she nervously smiled at the closest model.

“To the roof, party boys,” someone yelled, and the crowd whooped back in excitement. There was a stream of movement towards the double doors, some knocking into each other, and Kaito heard someone spill their drink as indicated by some yelling. He could not see who or where. Next to him, someone suddenly grabbed Tiffany’s arm, and she shot Kaito a lopsided grin.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” she managed to say before she was disappeared from his side. Gazing after her to make sure she was alright, he noticed it was one of the other party-goers, and he turned his attention back to where he was going, satisfied by the answer.

“Tell me, gorgeous. How long have you been in America?” a man whispered against Kaito’s shoulder, and he felt goose bumps trickling down his arm as a shiver of discomfort went down his spine. He had to muster every ounce of strength to not react as he felt a hand flutter at his hip.

Kaito glanced back, meeting calm brown eyes. The intruder had blond locks that curled on his temple, and a boyish smile. The tone of his skin spoke of hours working outside. He had sharp cheekbones and a long jaw. All in all, he was objectively very attractive. The blue shade of his shirt fit him perfectly, and as he moved, Kaito could see muscles shift underneath the fabric.

“I’m Jack,” he continued with another attractive grin that made his eyes glitter when Kaito did not reply.

Unwillingly, Kaito felt a tingle in his stomach – Jack was too attractive for his own good, he thought indignantly. He looked like a typical American farm boy.

“I’m Kitty,” he replied with a sugar sweet voice as he lowered his eyes to peer at him through his eyelashes. He made sure to match Tiffany’s accent, guys seemed to go wild for it.

“Howdy Kitty, it’s a mighty pleasure to finally be introduced. May I accompany you to the roof,” he held out his arm suggestively, even as his eyes were orbs of warmth.

Hiding a roll of his eyes, Kaito giggled – inwardly cringing at the high pitch sound of his own voice. He wondered slightly if this charade had been such a good idea after all. If someone found him out, the whole plan would be ruined. Even as he accepted the invitation – he could not afford to stick out, and put his hand on Jack’s arm (he could feel those farm muscles bulging underneath his grip) – he was already planning on how to ditch him.

“It would be my pleasure, sugar,” he averted his gaze to look at where he was going as he was led down into the corridor.

“So,” Jack continued, “about my previous question. How long have you been in America?”

He could feel the burning curiosity from his companion, and he was forced to glance back at him, “lived here on and off for a few years. How did you –“

“When you first arrived, you almost bowed in greeting. Its hard to shake off cultural hospitality,” Jack beamed at him for being right, yet there was something in the corner of his lips that Kaito could not describe properly. At the questioning look, he explained, “I’ve spent a few months travelling in Japan. I love your country. My only regret is that I couldn’t find a wife there.”

Kaito tried not to gag at the lame attempt at flirting, however he kept his friendly disguise. He smiled at him shily under his eyelids, “maybe you didn’t have to travel so far to find her.”

Jack grinned, his eyes now raking down his form. From his shoes, up his legs, hips, a small delay at his chest area before settling to stare deep into his eyes with a look that spoke volumes. Kaito wish he could discard the shiver that raked down his spine and settled in his stomach as disgust.

“Maybe you are right.”

He was rescued from coming up with a reply, as there was a sudden commotion in front of them. The hallway gave way for a roomier interior, with a set of elevators. Two finely dressed men in expensive suit and sunglasses glared at the crowd. The man on the left had his hand on a concealed weapon on his hip.

“You gotta let us through, man,” one of the drunk party members complained. “We paid for this, and we got a keycard to the roof from the reception. You can’t freeze us out of the epic pool party. We promised the ladies,” he gestured towards some of the models. “Let us through or we will – uh – uh, sue!”

The guards glanced towards each other, one had dark brown hair, the other a bit more reddish tint and a ginger beard. They turned around as they whispered to each other – there was some gesturing with their hands and trying to casually touch their earpiece, presumably to contact someone about the situation. From the expression and how the other man was attentive to the dark brown haired guard, it seemed as though he was the leader. After maybe a minute, they turned towards the group.

“Sorry sirs, we had not been notified of your permission, George here will accompany you to the roof,” their smiles were all toothy and unfriendly, however none of the drunk members seemed to care as they cheered.

They needed to take several turns to get up, and Kaito, being in the last group, noticed another man, dressed like the others, arrive and silently take the position that George had left – he was the man with the dark brown hair. Kaito was silently impressed, they were certainly effective and professional. Immediately called for backup. A fourth guard joined them in the elevator.

He started to sweat a little under the latex, and he had to restrain himself from not scratching his face from the subsequent itching. He could not afford the latex to shift and make his face deformed. Their instant new guards could be a problem, once again he wondered if his plan had been such a good idea after all. One mistake and it was all over. He took a deep breath to calm himself – there was no time for self-doubt. It would work, it needed to.

During this time, Jack had tried to draw him into a conversation. And although he had politely replied with a shy smile, he had also acted dismissively. Hopefully, the poor sod would take the hint soon and leave him alone. The elevator was stuffy and smelled of sweat and perfume.

They finally reached the roof and the elevator opened. The sound of music hit him immediately, and he looked to his left where someone had set up the dancefloor. In front of him was a large pool, attached to it was a bubble bath that some of the guests had jumped into despite still wearing all their clothing. On the right was a garden – it was still in bloom despite the winter. As promised, the heating lamps were warm enough that the night-time air was pleasant instead of freezing.

“Do you want a drink?” Jack murmured behind him so close that he could feel his breath tickle his neck. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he had to clench his jaw from telling him to back off.

“Kitty,” Tiffany plastered herself at his side and linked her arm around his. “You got to see this, its – its – its, how do I explain? Just come see,” she flashed Jack a grin, “let me borrow her for a moment and you can have her back in a jiffy.”

Jack held his palms up, “of course little lady,” he said with an amused tone, “I’ll wait by the drinks.”

Tiffany tittered as though it was the funniest thing she had heard, before dragging Kaito with her and disappearing into the crowd. She led him past the music speakers, and behind a wall with roses. She stopped then and started to fix her hair.

“Sorry for dragging you away so quickly,” she smiled at him softly with sympathizing eyes, “looked like the gentleman was bothering you.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied automatically, before smiling lopsided, “thank you for the rescuing though. It was getting increasingly harder to shake him off. You made me too pretty.”

She rolled her eyes with a grin curling on her lips, “nonsense, you were always pretty. Nothing to do with me and my talents. So,” she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall so she could peer through a gap in the flowers. “What’s the plan?”

“Nothing you need to involve yourself with,” he pursed his lips, but he peaked over her shoulder to gaze towards the elevator. The one named George was standing in front of one of them, he seemed more interested in staring at the girls than paying any attention to his environment. The newest addition seemed jumpy at every sound.

He was reasonable sure, in how the other guards acted around George, that the man must be the leader. That meant there was a large possibility that he would have the keycard – he recalled Chikage and Conan telling him that one of the guards would have it on their person. This was his one shot at succeeding with his mission.

“I have an idea,” he mumbled under his breath as an imaginary lightbulb lit above him.

“I know what we can do,” Tiffany said at the same moment. They shared an expression of amusement, but before Kaito could repeat that he did not want her anywhere near this as she had done enough for him, she shared her idea. “Mal can distract the nervous looking guard by saying she forgot something. They are probably wary that the guests will stop at the wrong floor and escort them. That’s probably why there are two of them. One to stand guard at all time.”

He closed his mouth, “that’s not actually a bad idea,” he confessed.

She grinned, her eyes lit up in excitement. “I’m not done yet. The second guard looks very interested in the girls. While the first one is gone, we can approach and flirt with him. Tell him we are naughty girls who likes a man in a uniform. Danger is exhilarating, all that crap you know,” she waved her hand dismissively, “then we just lure him away with the suggestion of a threesome with two hot girls, knock him out and take his access card. It’s a fool proof plan.”

“Of course you are a part of it,” he lifted an eyebrow. It did sound like a sound plan, even better than his own, he had to admit. But he was still uncertain as he did not want to get any of the model’s in trouble. Least of all Tiffany.

“I can take care of myself,” she lifted her chin up and glared at him, “I’ve gotten you this far, and I intend to see it through. You cant freeze me out just yet, you still need me.”

She had a point, and he sighed just as she grinned victoriously. She must have seen it in his face that he was about to give into her demands.

“Fine, but if it gets dangerous or I tell you to leave, you will, got it?”

She agreed wholeheartedly, and patted his shoulder, “It will be fine. Just you wait! Now, stay here so Jack don’t see you. I’ll go ask Mal for the favour,” she disappeared across the corner a moment later.

He leaned against the wall now, feeling a little hopeless. He was rapidly losing control over the situation. He hoped things were going better for the other two, imagining his mother flirting at the party, and Conan being a badass spy. He couldn’t help but smile at the image of the detective with nun chunks as he scaled a wall.

Lifting a hand to his earring, he squeezed it slightly to activate the com. “Going to attempt first contact. If successful, extraction should be successful. Stand by for updates.”

He did not have to wait long, as he heard his mother’s voice reply – her voice was low and a little static, probably due to the laughter in the background. “Good luck, you can do this.”

“Roger that,” was the only reply from Conan, however he sounded a bit breathed as he did. The com cut out just as he heard a low grunt, but it was more high pitched than that of the detective, so he could only assumed he had neutralized a guard.

Movements by the elevator had Kaito snap out of his thoughts as he saw Mal approach the jumpy looking guard. He could not hear or see what was going on, however there was a minute of conversation before she had the guard stepped into the now open elevator. George moved a little so he was standing blocking both elevators.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Tiffany wave at him. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he finally left his hiding spot and was swallowed by the crowd. At one point he could swear there was a hand on his arse, but he ignored it in favour of pushing through the throng. After a moment he got out safely on the other side. Tiffany glued herself to his side immediately.

“We got this,” she whispered to him excitingly, her whole body seems to vibrate with excitement and her eyes had a shine to it. Somehow, her energy seeped into him and calmed his nerves. They approached the guard.

“I love your suit,” Tiffany spoke as they stopped, close enough to touch. She did not seem abashed as she reached out to drag her hand over his arm. “Is that wool? Something this fine must be of wool, its not cashmere is it?”

The guard flushed at the compliment, and his eyes lingered at her hand before raking up her shoulder, to her chest to her face. “As a matter of fact, it is,” he couldn’t help the suggestive grin from tuckering on his lips.

“I knew it! I was just telling Kitty here how much I love a man in a good suit. It’s like a uniform. So sexy, my friend Kitty here love a man in a uniform.”

He detached himself from Tiffany and stepped closer to the guard, “do you mind I touch too? I love cashmere,” he gazed at him from underneath his eyelids, and without being prompted he ran a finger over the muscles on his upper arm. He could feel George shiver underneath his touch, and he turned to gaze at Kaito with an intense and interested expression. “Are you a guard or something?”

“As a matter of fact I am,” he cleared his throat, and leaned a bit closer.

“Really? That’s so cool,” she glued herself on his other side, “do you have a weapon? Omg, that would be so hot. I didn’t know you guarding over elevators was such a dangerous job.”

“Well,” he drawled out as he looked back at Tiffany, “don’t tell anyone, but its not the lifts we are guarding. I’m armed two ways, ladies, guess which Ill allow you to play with.”

Tiffany tittered and clasped his arm, “you are so funny! I’ll gladly play with either,” she winked with a suggestive grin, “got to help serve our protectors anyway we can.”

Kaito tried not to barf at the horrible flirting lines, however she seemed unaffected, probably used to far worse. He was silently thankful that she had not allowed him to shoo her away, he probably wouldn’t have made it this far without her. Damn, she was an amazing actor and partner in crime. The affection he felt for her warmed his chest.

“Could we see what you are guarding? That would be so exciting,” Kaito chirped, hating the sound of his own voice.

George shook his head, “sorry ladies. But no can do. No one is allowed in there.”

Tiffany and Kaito shared a look of disappointment, before pushing themselves physically a little harder against him. She jiggled a little to make sure he was staring down into her cleavage. “We could stand outside and – oh, I know! Kitty and I could pretend we are thieves and you could detain us,” she giggled and looked up at him seductively through her eyelashes.

“I hope you have handcuffs, that would make it feel so real,” Kaito finished, smiled playfully at him.

George seemed to have gotten cross-eyed from their words and demeanour, and he swallowed audible. He clenched his fist and seemed hesitant fighting against desire and protocol. “I’m happy to re-enact the scene back at my place when I’m off the shift,” he gave them a thirsty grin.

They instantly dropped their hands to the side and gave him an expression of dissatisfaction. “There is no fun without the excitement of being caught, let’s go back to the party Kitty,” Tiffany muttered with a grimace as she turned away, Kaito made to follow however George grabbed their wrist before they could move. They turned back with a shared curious look.

Fat droplets of sweat trickled down George’s brows - an indication of his inner turmoil. “Now, now ladies. I was just testing you, yeah? To see if you were real thrill seekers,” he lied through his teeth, but they brightened up, “why don’t you two come with me. Promise not to tell anyone alright?”

They nodded, “we wont tell anyone! That would ruin the run.”

George looked pleased at their answer and turned towards the elevator. He fished up a keycard from his jacket and activated the lift. They didn’t have to wait long before it pinged, and they entered the small enclosure. As they did, George put his hands around their waist. He bent over breathing into Kaito’s throat with a lusty growl.

“Why don’t you push the 18th floor button?”

A shiver of disgust raked down his spine, but he kept a pleasant smile as he shot a glance towards Tiffany. She looked radiant in her excitement, and she held her thumbs up. She was clearly pleased that her plan had worked wonders. Looking back towards the panel he clicked on the number eighteen button. The lift started to move a moment later.

“How long have you been working here?” Tiffany asked innocently.

George straightened from where he had almost buried himself into Kaito’s neck – probably smelling his perfume, to glance at her. “I’m not an employee of the hotel, doll,” he smirked, “I work for a private security firm.”

“Oh,” she tilted her head with mock innocence, “sorry for assuming. That’s even neater. I heard you could make a lot of money in the private sectors.”

“Babe, you wouldn’t believe how much money I make,” his grin almost split his face at the predatorial expression he wore as he gazed at her. Almost like he was a beast and she was his prey.

Kaito was tempted to knee him for staring at his friend like that, however it was important to the mission. He logically knew that Tiffany was used to treatment like this, but that did not mean he had to like it. The elevator finally opened with a soft chime and they excited.

The corridor was identical to the other hallways in the hotel, and they followed him down a route to the left. After a few minutes he stopped outside a room at the end of a corridor. He stopped there and turned towards them.

“I believe this is our end station,” he smirked at them, and from a pocket he withdrew a pair of handcuffs. “Which one of you want to go first?”

“Out here?” Kaito looked around, “what if someone sees?” he pretended to get a good idea as he light up. “Do you have a key to one of the rooms here? We can pretend we wanted to drill into the main room from there. It will be more authentic, plus,” his lips twitched upwards into a seductive smile. “There will be a bed.”

“I see where you are going with it. Smart girl, one moment, let me just,” he looked through his pocket for a moment, before withdrawing a keycard that looked a bit fancier than the last one. “This will get us into any of the rooms. Pick and choose ladies.”

Tiffany swaggered seductively towards a door, “this one is perfect.”

“As you girls wish,” he walked to her, and with a swipe of the card he walked in behind Tiffany, who giggled in return.

Kaito followed, and just as George reached for her, he quickly slapped a cloth across the guard’s mouth from behind. He made a gurgling sound in the back of his throat in surprise, before he suddenly went limp and fell forward. Kaito stepped back and watch him fall, hard, on the floor.

“What a fucking creep,” he muttered under his breath as the cloth with chloroform disappeared back into his bra. “Help me get him into the room, in case they have regular survey of the hallways.”

Tiffany helped him, although he did most of the work. “That was so exciting. I have never done anything like that. Do you think I should become a spy? I’d be amazing at it.”

He glanced towards her with a lopsided grin, “or maybe become an actress.”

She paused, a small blush on her cheeks, “yeah. That would work too.”

Kaito leaned over the sleeping body and grabbed the keycard from his hand. He felt a bobble of excitement from the realization that his plan had actually worked. It had sounded so foolish, however he shouldn’t have doubted the ideocracy of a horny man. A shot of adrenaline shook through him as he rummaged through George’s pockets. After a moment, he found a pair of keys.

“Do you think it will actually work? That those are the keys to the vault?” she asked with a shaking voice. A glance towards her in worry just indicated that it was from excitement and nothing more.

“If we are lucky, and I hope to every gods there is that we are,” he grinned back and stood back on his feet. His hands felt a little clammy and he had an urge to remove the latex mask. “I’d like to encourage you to leave now before you become an accomplice to a crime. There is no turning back now. But I know it wouldn’t stop you anyway, but I felt like I should try one last time.”

She grabbed his hand and grinned, “not a fucking chance, and you know it. Now let’s go get whatever you are looking for.”

Kaito grinned back, another wave of affection for her warmed his chest. He was lucky to have her. The moment was over as quick as it started – they both felt the ticking of a clock as they left the room, closing it behind them. The quicker this was done, the less chance there would be that anyone would catch them.

He swiped the card over the door, and after a moment it beeped open. He reached out to the door handle and gently pushed it open. The room lit as the door opened. There were no windows, in fact, there were no furniture whatsoever. The door led to an empty, square room. The whiteness of the walls almost blindingly. It took him a second before he saw the metal doors at the end of the room.

He inhaled sharply in order to calm his nerves. This was it. A quick scan of the room only showed a singular security camera that was off – perhaps the renters had specifically asked for it to remain offline so that no one would be able to identify them.

“Stay here, let me know if anyone is coming,” he told Tiffany, and she nodded in agreement.

She looked a bit pale now that they were finally at their target, but despite the nervousness she gave him a confident smile.

Kaito approached the vault doors. He studied the security box – it seemed like it only needed a keycard. He swiped it, holding a breath. Nothing happened for a moment, and part of him wanted to bolt in case it set off some alarms. However a moment later it opened. Once again, the room lit automatically.

He stepped inside. All around him from top to bottom there were rows of security boxes, all with numbers from what he assumed was hotel rooms. The guests would be allowed to deposit whatever they needed in here. Unlike the door, it seems as though they could only be opened by an actual key. He looked down at the one he had taken from the guard, and groaned at the realization there were no number on it.

Great for security measures, terrible news for him. It meant that he had to be very lucky if he were to find the correct box. Fuck, this would take some time. Looking around the room, he decided to disregard everything from below the twelfth floor – that’s the ones who weren’t rented out by the villain party. Whimsically, he decided to start on the numbers from their floor – floor eighteen.

He figured that their employers might have given them in charge of the handling of his valuables. That way, no one could steal the access card from him in a party filled with criminals, and if something happened to him the guards could remove his items from the box and be long gone. If he was right, it would be clever. George also did not seem like such a smart individual – if he was lucky, the key would belong to one of the security boxes on this floor.

There was a soft click from the lock as he twisted the key into the tenth box. His heart hammered in his throat in surprise. It was the box – fuck, he had been terribly lucky. He was about to wonder how many more minutes he was going to try and fail before giving up and hope Conan or Chikage had more luck on their task, when it finally worked.

He opened the drawer a bit harder than necessary as his hand shook from the adrenaline. He opened it – there a few thousand notes of currency in there, as well as a golden ring and some papers – but no music box. The disappointment laid heavy on his shoulders. All this had been for nothing, however they had been prepared for the fact that only one of the locations would be the correct one. He had secretly been hoping it was his just so he could actually feel like he was contributing.

He skimmed through the notes quickly, before putting everything back to where their lay, and closed the drawer. They would have to make sure no one was aware of the break in – and he hoped George would be too embarrassed in the morning to mention anything, especially when nothing was stolen. Hopefully his pride would keep his lips closed.

Kaito left the vault, and stopped in his tracks in surprise as his eyes widened. Tiffany was backed into a corner, as a blond man – Jack – stood threateningly over her.

“What do you think you are doing? Get away from her,” Kaito growled.

Almost immediately, Jack looked up towards him, and a smile split his face – it did not look like a pleasant smile. “I was just looking for you. You disappeared all of a sudden. I was worried something must have happened to you, but I see you have been quite busy.”

Kaito reached out to close the door behind him, and he felt a puff of air brush against his neck. “Get away from her.”

Jack rolled his eyes slightly, but did as he was told. He looked expectant towards him with a hungry expression – but one that glowed of greed. “Would be awfully shame if someone were to know you tried to steal. How about I don’t mention it to anyone if we share the loot fifty-fifty.”

Kaito held out his arms, and his lips twitched upwards in amusement. “Does it look like I have any loot on me. I’m only wearing a dress. I have only one of the keys that I took from the guard. I couldn’t figure out which one was his. But if you want to take a crack at it, it’s all yours.” He threw the key towards Jack, who stumbled to catch it in his surprise.

The intruder parted his lips, before changing his mind and shrugging. “Alright. Don’t mind if I do.”

“Not at all,” Kaito approached and reached for Tiffany, “now if you excuse me. We will be on our way,” he gave him a tight smile a s they stepped around the larger man, however he did not seem inclined to stop them as he was studying the key, barely noticing them.

They slipped through the door and closed it behind them as quick as they could. Without stopping, they continued down the hallway – only making a brief pause to slip the all access card into George’s pocket – and didn’t stop before they were in the elevator.

As the lift ascended, they could finally breathe out.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Kaito’s eyes sought hers with worry.

She shook her head, “no. He just spoked me. One moment he was there and the next I was crowded into a corner. He gives me the chills.”

He couldn’t agree more. “Let’s hope the guards find him trying to break in. That would teach him.”

They shared a grin, before Tiffany sobered up as she leaned against one of the walls. She huddled her arms around her. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

He shook his head. “No. But that’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, staring at him with a sympathetic expression, but she did not say anything else. He was thankful for her lack of curiosity – not having asked even once what he was looking for.

“Thank you,” he said honestly with as much warmth he could muster. “I owe you.”

“Damn straight. You better be there at the next fashion shoot.”

The elevator finally reached the top floor, and they stepped out of it into the fresh air. They were out of dodge. He felt like laughing – he had done it. He had actually done it – sure, he had not found what they had been looking for. But he had managed to complete his part of the heist. Bubbles of joy tickled in his chest.

He turned back to Tiffany and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Go enjoy the party. I will see you in a moment alright? Just need to check in with the rest.”

She nodded at him, and squeezed his arm. “You better not disappear on me,” she said with a soft smile, before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

He watched her leave for a moment with a soft expression – he was so grateful for her companionship. He had not expected such an alley in a person he barely knew. He straightened a little before stepping away from the crowd and ventured into the garden. The smell of flowers tickled in his nose, and he inhaled to savour the scents. He walked past a couple making out – surprised to see it was the awkward cousin from earlier feeling up one of the models – and reached the end of the balcony. Another wall of roses towered behind him, hiding him from view of the partygoers. In front of him was walls of glass to keep the chill air from cooling him. He leaned his forehead against the glass with an exhale. He rolled his shoulder trying to rid himself of the lingering of adrenaline still pumping through his system.

He reached up to his earring, “mission accomplished: the target is not here.” He held his breath for a moment waiting for a reply. He did not wait more than few more moments before he could hear the static from Conan.

“Target is not at this location either.”

They waited in silence for Chikage to report in. When she didn’t, he checked the time – there was still some time left till their designated report time. If someone didn’t make it, it meant someone was in trouble. Radio silence now meant that she was too busy to report. Per the instruction, he changed to a private channel.

Conan must have been waiting for the que, as he immediately asked with a soft voice. “How did it go?”

“It went well,” he felt a warmth tingle from the concern in the detective’s voice. “A lot smoother than I thought. I have Tiffany to thank for that. She was a great asset.”

“Glad to hear you had no trouble on your end.”

His lips curled upwards miniscule, there had been some hiccups, but he had handled it well – at least he felt as though he had. He could tell the story later when they were all done with their missions – hopefully successful – back at the hotel room and share a bubble of champagne.

Kaito’s gaze started to wander towards the building across to him, where he knew Conan was in. most of the side facing him was covered in glass, however it was mostly dark, probably to keep from catching any attention from wandering eyes. His eyes did settle at a form in one of the windows, and suddenly his heart raced – not from adrenaline but a different feeling all together.

He could vaguely see the familiar figure of Conan standing a few floors under him. He was dressed fully in black, with a matching beanie – it was almost bizarre to see him wear anything but a trench coat. He had a bag hanging from his shoulder. He was too far away to see any facial features, but Kaito knew it was him. Especially as Conan gave a short wave as he was noticed.

“How were things on your end?” he started, “let me guess. Nothing you couldn’t handle?”

The crackling of soft laughter vibrated in his ears, and he couldn’t keep his lips from twitching upwards in affection, “exactly. You know me well.”

“That’s not true. I barely know anything about you,” the smile died on his lips as a tint of sadness coloured his voice.

The was a beat of silence, before Conan changed the topic, “what will you do if we don’t find the music box?”

“Keep looking,” he replied immediately, “we know its out there. We just have to start from scratch.”

The detective sighted into his microphone, the static crackled in his ear and he barely managed to not grimace. “You are never going to give this up, are you?”

“No,” he had not gotten this far to give up now. They were all finally on the same side. He felt, with Conan and Chikage on his side, they could do anything. The invincible trio.

“That’s too bad,” Conan continued, “I was about to suggest a solution to changing the fact you don’t know much about me. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for dinner when this was over, but it seems I have to wait a while longer.”

Kaito’s stomach dropped in surprise and he felt his lips part. A new shot of adrenaline pulsated through his body and he felt his heart in pulsate in his throat. Conan wanted to ask him out? Was that really what had just happened? Part of him wanted to whoop in joy as he had been under the assumption the detective wanted nothing to do with him and regretted the night they spent together. As the happiness died out, he remembered the most important part of this whole thing –

“Are you sure that’s just a good idea?” he bit his lips, hating his own words, but pushed forward regardless. “I know you look like you are in your early twenties but… its bizarre. That you knew my dad that is. I like you, I do, but the age differences kind of weird me out.”

Laughter stopped his babbling, and he closed his mouth in surprise. “What’s so funny?” he groused, however more in disbelief than in anger.

“Nothing, nothing,” the detective gasped, as though he was trying to reel himself in. “It seems you grossly misunderstood. It’s true, I did meet Toichi once, but the detective that hounded him fifteen years ago was my father, not me. My real age is closer to yours. I only shrunk ten years.”

“Oh,” Kaito said lamely, his cheeks burning from embarrassment. He had jumped to really weird conclusions, he realized. “That makes a lot more sense,” he mumbled to himself, remembering his mother telling him that he and Conan used to play when they were younger. Now that he thought about it, he vaguely did remember a child his age he had met once or twice. “This is slightly awkward,” he cleared his throat.

“I apologize for the misunderstanding, I realize its partly my fault as well, for not being one hundred percent truthful. I have been hiding my identity for fifteen years, its difficult for me to be honest and open. I’m far used to being secretive and only sharing as little as possible. It’s a lifetime of bad habits. I keep certain things secrets to keep the ones I love at home safe. I hope you forgive me.”

The tint of sadness and regret in the detective’s voice had his heart flutter in affection. “It’s alright. It happens. I can understand your reasoning, I don’t expect you to share everything with me. Looking back at it now, the misunderstanding is kind of funny,” a small grin flickered in the corner of his lips. “We don’t’ have to wait till the case is closed to go out. What do you say about tomorrow night? I know a quaint little restaurant we could go to.”

“Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

A large smile stretched across his face, he could not recall the last time he had smiled so wide. He was bubbling with happiness and excitement. He would finally be able to ask all the questions he had about Conan, and finally learn more about him. He couldn’t wait – had started to lose hope that there would be anything between them. However, it seemed as though the detective had just been as cautious, knowing his past.

The sound of popping and laughter snapped him out of the moment, and he turned to his right to see confetti fly from the poppers the party had shot over the balcony. The glittering plastic whirled in the breeze past him and floated downwards towards the street.

“The confetti kind of reminds me of snow,” Conan said, and Kaito’s glanced towards him again. He could see the detective facing the confetti – someone must have turned on a light as the the light from outside reflecting off the window and basking the detective in a white glow. The sound of peeping in the background from the microphone obscured his voice as he kept talking. Kaito could not hear what he was saying – neither did it seem as though Conan noticed the sound.

“ – just so I can watch the snow fall.”

The world suddenly stopped. With the sharp inhale of air, everything slowed down. Then, several things happened at the same time. Something on his chest burned iron hot, and he slapped a hand against the window, as though he could reach out and stop whatever was going to happen. He felt his mouth move on his own, and his voice sounded like it was under water and far away.

“Run, Conan, run,” he yelled as loud as he could, distress and fear breaking his voice. Terror raked down his spine, and suddenly there was a bright light. Something forced him backwards, and he fell on his back as glass shattered around him. Everything was deafened for several seconds, and he was only vaguely aware of screaming and panic somewhere on his right.

He exhaled sharply, feeling as though there no air in his lungs as he crawled across the glass, not caring that he cut his palms. Fear beat in his throat and churned his stomach. One hand reached up to cradled the burning of his chest – no longer blindingly, but still noticeable. The wind was now howling in his ears and the cold bit where his skin was exposed.

He did not care about any of that as he peered over the counter – the glass no longer there and his wig flickered around him like crazy. His eyes zoomed towards where Conan had stood a few moments earlier. He could no longer see the detective – all he could see was fire and smoke and broken glass and metal.

A despaired sob wrenching itself from his throat. “Conan,” he yelled hoarsely into the microphone. “Please answer me. Please tell me you are alright.”

Not even static replied back. There was only silence.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 9449
> 
> Published: 21.08.2020

“The Sakura trees in Beika park has started to blossom. This time a year has always been my favourite. I have a secret spot where you can see the entire park. The pink blossoms remind me of cotton candy sometimes. I think you would have liked seeing that.”

The wind whirled around him, making the fringes of his hair ruffle and poke into his eyes. He brushed the locks away with a hand. It was early afternoon, the sun shone above him and birds chirped somewhere on his left. The grass tickled his ankles, and offhandedly he thought that the grass was late for a trim.

His fingers twitched around the single flower he held. It was a deep, blue coloured rose. He laid it down on top of the stone in front of him.

“I’ll bring some Sakura blossoms next time to show you,” he continued, never expecting any reply.

The stone was cold to the touch despite laying in the sun all morning. Elegant writing read “Kudou Shinichi, 1980 – 1996, a son and a friend” across the headstone. It was made of dark granite and stood proudly next to a tree. A few spring flowers grew on the allocated spot. An iron teddy bear sat in the middle, looking a little worn from time.

There was no headstone for Edogawa Conan. At least not in Japan – he did not know if Conan’s friends had had a funeral for him. In fact, Jigen and Lupin had disappeared completely and without a trace. After that disastrous night, Chikage had contacted her old friends – Conan’s parents, and they had told them the whole story. Conan – or Shinichi rather – had gone undercover to find the organization that tried to poison him in order to not let the woman he loved, Mouri Ran, get involved and hurt because of him.

It was a noble cause, and Kaito could not help the jolt of pain knowing he had single handily ruined the detective’s life work. Because of him, there would be no resolution to his story. It had all ended so abruptly that it almost felt anticlimactic. His detective, the most amazing and brilliant person he had ever met, had been dead for half a year.

At the start, he had counted every hour and every day. However, Aoko had forced him out of his stupor, did not let him spiral into that darkness. It was still difficult to accept that he was gone just like that.

“I started performing again last week,” he mumbled to no one, his hand still resting heavily on the stone. “Haven’t really been in the mood lately, you know. But Aoko made me. I’m kind of glad,” his lips twitched upwards in a humourless smile. “I’ve missed it. It’s weird how you are gone and life just, you know, keep on going.”

Kaito regretted, with his whole being, that he had not listen to Conan and Chikage. He should have given up on revenge – it had been fifteen long years. He should have taken the win that he and his mother had gotten so close, and that he had found someone who genuinely liked him. He had lost is soulmate, and it was all his fault. The world felt unfair and terrible, but it was hard to blame someone when he knew he was the cause.

He had known Conan was in trouble for helping him – with the Shimada and Vermouth – yet he had never insisted that the detective did not get involved any further. He had been more than happy that someone so competent was on his side, and used him as a resource. One which he had burned out.

With his other hand, he clutched his chest as pain shot through him, and for a second he could not breathe. It felt as though his heart was decaying. His eyes filled with tears that he forcefully blinked away. After a moment, his breathing evened out, and he kept repeating a mantra in his head to calm himself down. He had been getting better, but sometimes he just wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

He dropped his arm after another moment. He inhaled deeply: the grass and scent of flowers tickled in his nose, and he let his shoulders relax.

“Sorry about that,” he told the headstone, “you don’t have to worry about me. I’m doing good. I really am, but we all have our bad days, you know,” his lips twitched into a lopsided smile.

“Shinichi! Come back here at once!”

The sudden yelling had him jump slightly in surprise, and he turned around to see a small boy at the age of six come running towards him. A dog yapped at his feet, and the child yelled back.

“Last one to the grave have to eat rocks as dessert!”

Trailing behind him was a woman in her early thirties. She had dark brown hair that reached her hip. A lock of hair was tucked behind her ears with short wavy bangs over her forehead. On her back was a toddler with a toothless smile that tucked on her hair with small, chubby hands.

The child – Shinichi – stopped abruptly in front of Kaito with his mouth open in surprise. “Mum, there is a weird guy here. Why is there a weird guy here?”

“Hey,” Kaito protested and looked down on his clothing. Sure they were a bit rumbled, but his white blazer over a dark blue shirt did not look out of place. “I’m not weird. You are weird,” he replied dumbly.

The woman had finally reached them, and she looked a little out of breath running after her son. She grabbed his shoulder and yanked him in front of her with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be rude. Apologize to the gentleman, Shinichi. That’s no way to talk to someone you just met.”

The child opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again at the stern expression from his mum. After a moment of shuffling, they both bowed in apology.

“I’m sorry, oniisan.”

“That’s alright,” Kaito hunkered down so they were on the same hight. “You just weren’t expecting anyone. I’m Kuroba Kaito, magician extraordinaire.” From his wrist a yellow flower flickered out and grew on his fingers as he handed the kid the bloom.

Shinichi’s mouth popped open in surprise, he accepted the offered flower and turned to his mother with excitement bobbling in his voice and glittering in his eyes. “Mum, did you see that? How did he do that? That’s awesome! Do you think I can do that one day too?”

She looked warmly back at him, before looking at Kaito with an expression of gratitude. “It takes a lot of time and practice, but everything is possible if you train hard enough. I’m Mouri Ran, this is my son Shinichi.”

Kaito’s heart almost jumped out of his ribcage in surprise. He thought she had looked familiar – but then again, he had never tried to look her up. Shinichi’s life had nothing to do with him. He stood slowly as he looked her up and down in curiosity. So this was the woman Shinichi had sacrificed everything for in order to keep her safe. His first instinct, was that she seemed kind with a warm smile – without knowing her, he could see what his detective had seen in her. She seemed too innocent for Shinichi’s dark world in the criminal world.

“I should get going, I’ll leave you alone,” he gave a small bow to her, his stomach churning ever so slightly as the forbidden dark words of _‘I wonder if he loved her till the very end’_ niggled in the back of his head. He mentally pushed the thoughts away, it was nothing he would want to consider.

“Wait,” she called out as he turned to leave, and he turned back to face her with a curious expression. Her eyes were soft, almost as though they shone with compassion and sympathy. “I’m sure he very much appreciates your visit. I was wondering who was leaving all the flowers – I always thought I was the only one who still visited after all these years.”

Kaito lowered his eyes in an attempt to hide the blush threatening to crawl up from his collarbone. “I hope he does,” he managed to whisper after a silent moment. His throat threatened to clam up as he battled against the melancholic feelings.

“I don’t think we have ever met. Were you a friend?”

“Family friend,” he hesitated, “I just recently learned of his death. Thought the least I could do is honour his memories.” He hated the cheap lie, however he did not know how much Ran knew. From what he understood from what his parents had told him, she was in the dark about everything. As far as she knew, Shinichi had died fifteen years ago.

“He had a habit of doing that,” she smiled as she gazed at the tombstone.

“Do what?” his mouth felt dry.

“Leave a permanent mark. It’s been fifteen years, but I still miss him. Still wait for him to barge through the door. You must think me silly, but for long time I thought he was still guarding over me.”

He could not meet her gaze, and simply nodding his agreement. Conan was definitely a person he would never forget. Ran might have moved on with her life, gotten married and have kids, but once she had loved him just as Kaito had. She might be the only one who really understood the empty vacuum in his heart.

Some days he remembered Tiffany’s words long ago when they had been discussing soulmates in her kitchen. She had hypothesized that some people might have two soulmates – Conan might have had two. One as Shinichi and one as Conan. That’s why his soulmark had disappeared. He could never be sure if he was right, however he liked that theory. It let him sleep better at night.

“He was indeed an extraordinary and unique person,” he admitted with a wry smile. “I really should get going. Have a nice day.”

“Can I see one more trick before you go?” the boy suddenly attached himself to his leg as he looked up with round, hopeful eyes. While the grown-ups had been discussing something above his understanding, he had been looking at his flower, but now he was excited once more. “Please?”

“Shinichi,” his mother told him kindly, “don’t bother Kuroba-san. He is a busy man.”

Kaito shook his head, “no, it’s alright. I don’t mind.” He lifted a hand to the boy’s ear, and pulled a coin from behind his ear. The child squealed in joy and accepted the join. He then turned to throw himself around Ran’s waist as he babbled about magic and coins and flowers.

He left them at that, a smile twitching on his lips. It had been a crude, simple trick, but it had created such joy. He really did miss the stage and his magic shows – just a smile on a child’s face was enough to make the job feel rewarding. He vowed to take on more performances.

The graveyard was mostly empty, but for some stray visitors. An elderly man was standing by a lone headstone with a bundle of flowers in his hand – presumably, the grave belonged to his late wife. A young couple was crying over a newly made grave – it did not have a tombstone yet, only a wooden cross.

Finally, he stepped out of the graveyard, and immediately he felt like he could take a relieved breath. There was something about the place that felt sombre and heavy. He followed the street till it crossed to the motorway. Some scattered shops lay on either side – one doing pedicures, another selling flowers. It was smart having a flower boutique next to a graveyard, he thought with dark humour. Capitalism always find a way to profit.

Kaito crossed into another road, this one more crowded. Some neon lights from shops flashed above him, and the murmur of a crowd swallowed him. He knew the road by memory and had no problem finding the entrance to the underground tube amongst the mass of people. As he walked down, a chill shivered down his spine at the warming sun disappeared.

Some garbage lay next to the trash can, and he reached down to scope it up as he put it in the trash. He shook his head slightly, some people had no respect for the environment. He scanned his transport card at the electronic booth and took the stairs in two strides down to the platform. A train stood idle at the platform.

Checking his clock and the name of the train, he stepped towards the line to get inside. He hoped there was space for him, he did not particularly feel like having to wait another fifteen minutes for the next one. His stomach growled unhappily at the thought – he was going to be late for a lunch appointment with Aoko if he didn’t get on it.

Thankfully, the crowd dispersed, and he entered the train. It was crowded and stuffy inside, enough that someone was in his face. He ignored it as he stared down on the floor, one hand clutched over his keys and wallet in case there was any pick-pocketers aboard. A crowded train compartment was one of their favourite hunting grounds after all.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see a cluster of teenage girls staring in his direction and giggling to themselves. They most likely recognized him as a famous Magician, and he was thankful for the politeness of Japanese culture of not approaching strangers – even if they were famous. It made it very relaxing to move around the country. He had not been as lucky in the US when he had lived and performed there in his early twenties.

The train rolled into Ekoda station, and he got out before anyone could stop or approach him. He was not in the mood to talk to anyone. His stomach was churning, and despite the conversation with Ran, he felt as though he was left with a lot of questions and negativity.

Leaving the station, he caught the number eight bus towards the living area of the city. There were less skyscrapers there and more family houses. He got off of the bus after half an hour – despite it being spring, the air was still a little crisp, and he wished he had remembered to bring a scarf that morning.

This street was more fancy than the usual, with expensive and large houses that sometimes could be called mansions. Sometimes he wondered if Aoko had married Hakuba for his family money – it would be the scam of the century. Despite his hope, he knew she loved her husband.

He arrived at the correct gate. The emblem of a horse was inscribed proudly on the metal doors. The house was more modest in size than its neighbours, but the garden outshined them all, with luscious blossom trees surrounding a small pond. Even from this distance, he could see the colourful glittering of the fish shine. He grimaced – why anyone would want slimy things in the vicinity of their house was beyond his understanding.

A brush of wind ruffled through his clothes, sending a shiver down his spine. The trees shivered from the sudden force, and a handful of sakura petals detached from the flowers. They swirled in the air for a moment, the weak soon reflected off the petals, creating an illusion that they were white. For a moment, it reminded him of falling snow.

His stomach dropped ever so slightly at the thought – a bitter feeling filled his mouth. He had spent almost three decades of his life hating the sight of snow, yet it had never been the snow he had to fear. He felt almost cheated that it was confetti that had been the demise of his soulmate, and not the crystalized water he had scorned for so long. He had spent so many years avoiding the wrong thing – it almost felt like irony, how it seemed he had made so many poor life decisions based on assumption. First his futile chase after Kaitou Corbeau, then hating snow for no reason whatsoever.

He pushed the thoughts away, this was not the time to spiral into those dark corners of his mind. He reached out to press the button for the buzzer. There was a moment of silence before there was a static greeting as the doors buzzed open. He entered the estate before the doors had opened completely – he did not have the patience to wait when there was no need to. He followed the pebbled path towards the front entrance. To the left was a concrete road towards the garage.

Aoko was already standing in the door when he arrived. She smiled at him through her eye lashes. She had grown up to a beautiful woman, even if she lacked a little in the curve area. Her hair was shorter than the last time she had seen him. The locks of chocolate brown hair framed her petite face.

“You look different,” he said in greeting as he approached her. “Did you finally take a shower?”

She rolled her eyes and stuck a tongue at him. “Don’t make me regret inviting you for lunch,” she turned around and walked back through the door, making him dash to catch the door before it closed behind her.

“No really,” he let the door close behind him as he entered the house. He kicked off his shoes and put on the slippers waiting for him. “You look good, honestly.”

“You are just saying that so I wont serve your lunch with a side dish of fish,” she replied with a huff, however there was no malice in her voice. She suddenly turned around and pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you, Kaito. How have you been?”

He hugged her back with a soft smile curling on his lips, before letting her go. “I’ve had a good day.”

She eyed him carefully, her gaze looking him up and down, before giving a satisfied nod – whatever she had been searching for, he didn’t know. He was just pleased she was happy with what she found. She started to walk towards the kitchen.

“How was your performance? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it, but you know –“

“ – an emergency, I know,” he didn’t blame her, he knew how much her job meant to her. No one could predict when and where murders happened after all. “It went good. I think I’m ready to go back to the stage.”

Aoko lead him to a table – a bento box was placed in front of both seats. A bowl of miso laid next to it. She sat down. “Really?” her lips parted in surprise, “you must be glad I forced you to do it then.”

He sat down and picked up his chopsticks. “I am actually,” he looked at her with a soft expression. “Thank you for being so insufferable that you made me return to the stage just so you would get off my back.”

“That’s the spirit,” she beamed at him. “You are very welcomed.”

They shared a grin. Kaito looked around him, he could not help but notice there was something missing. “Where is Yukio?”

“He is at a friends’ house. Playdate,” she took a sip of her miso soup.

He couldn’t help but pout slightly in disappointment.

“Don’t be such a child. You will see him later.”

“Fair enough. He is my favourite Hakuba after all,” he grimaced slightly at the thought. The fact he had a favourite Hakuba. However Yukio was half Nakamori as well, he liked to say that was his favourite part of the kid.

“There is a reason he isn’t here,” Aoko confessed, her eyes hard. He did not like the shiver that went down his spine, it meant she was all business. “You never really told me everything about that night. I’m curious if you are ready to talk about it.”

He avoided his gaze. Deciding to stir his soup instead. He had told Aoko everything from the very start. He never had any secrets with his childhood friend. She had known about Toichi being Kaitou KID almost as long as he had. He could not imagine what Conan had gone through, having to lie to the person that was his closest for so long. Lie until that lie became his new reality. His stomach dropped at the thought of how lonely he must have been.

“What was in the music box?”

Except that. He had never told her about that – never could muster the energy. She must have seen the crestfallen look on his face, as she reached out a moment later to brush her hand against his.

“I think it’s time, to talk about it. Don’t you? It’s been months, Kaito. You can’t grieve that long, it’s not good for your mental health. People lose their soulmates all the time –“

“It was my fault,” he cut her off, bitterness filling his voice as he grinded his teeth together. He dropped the chopsticks and withdrew his hand from hers, and dropped it into his lap – now out of reach. “Did you ever hear about the story of the Betrayed Heart? A Nazi officer accidentally gasses his soulmate in the concentration camps. He ended up killing himself out of guilt. There are stories littered about it across history. Even if he wasn’t my soulmate, it would still be my fault.”

“I’m sure no one blames you. Not even he would. He willingly followed you, and you know that.”

He curled his fingers, and the nail cut into the skin of his knee. “He asked me to drop the case and move on with my life a dozen times. I never listened – if I had just listened he would be still alive. I was selfish and dumb, without considering the consequences. I knew the people were dangerous, I knew he was in trouble, yet I never stopped and thought. ‘What if I gave up?’ Not even once. If I had, he would still be sitting here next to me. Well, maybe not physically, but you know what I mean.”

“Kaito,” she gazed at him with a sympathised expression. “You were doing the right thing. You were trying to stop dangerous individuals that has been doing god knows what for decades. Of course you couldn’t let it go despite it being dangerous. That’s just how you are. You run straight into danger if it means you can save someone’s life. I think that’s why he fell for you – your sense of justice.”

He looked out the window, his jaw clenching. He did not like that she was repeating the delusion that he had been telling himself for years. That it was something he had to do for the sake of the future – even though deep down he knew he had been fuelled by thoughts of revenge.

“Besides,” she continued, and in the corner of his eyes she could see her gaze turn more sad. “He was your soulmate, it was always meant to end like this. You can’t run from destiny – from the start he was always supposed to die in that building. There is nothing you could have done differently.”

“And that is supposed to be a comforting thought,” he gritted bitterly through his teeth. “That there is no free will? Does that absolve me from my actions? Should I just, continue on with my life, believing it wasn’t my fault because destiny said so? I was the one who made my life choices, not some invisible force. I don’t care what some people say, I am responsible for my actions.”

She sighed, and sat back on her chair. She did not look happy, however he knew she had not given in. “Soulmates are rubbish anyway. You know what happened last week? A couple committed tax fraud by using his soulmark as proof that his wife had died when she mysteriously disappeared. He cashed on her life insurance, and then they tried to flee the country. The wife had been on it from the start. I’m sorry to say its neither the first time nor the last time someone has ever tried doing that.”

Kaito leaned his head on his hand, still staring out of the window. “People are despicable, no doubt about that. Abusing everything they can. Sometimes I wish soulmates weren’t a thing. It makes things way too complicated.”

She nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it. Our lives would be so much simpler. Free to love and cherish whoever you want. But,” her gaze turned more intense as she looked at him – he could not see, but rather feel the intensity from how the hair on his arms stood up. “We haven’t talked about it yet. But what do you intend to do now? With the whole case? You have two reasons to want revenge now after all.”

He dropped his arm and looked back at her. His lips twitched upwards slightly in a sad smile. “I gave up, Aoko. There is nothing more I can do. I should never have wasted fifteen years of my life on this. Conan was in the same shoes, and where did that get him? Alone, and died before he could accomplish everything. I probably will be next, and unlike him, I am a celebrity. My whole family history is known to the world. They might come after you next if I pursue this.”

He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair, making the locks stand up in a wild mess. “I can’t do this without him. I just don’t want to do this anymore. I’m tired Aoko. I’m neither smart enough nor have enough resources. I turned everything I had to the PSIA. Maybe they can get anywhere. But I’m done.”

She looked surprised but pleased. Her lips tucked into a soft smile. “I’m glad you finally got to that conclusion. Took you a while, but you got there. You were never really here you know, always half-minded on the case. Maybe now you can finally move on and live your life.”

He knew she was right, didn’t particularly like it, but he knew. And for the first time in years he felt he could breathe. It was a long journey with a shit ton of setbacks. It was not how he had thought his adventure would end – he always imagined it would be having the whole organization dismantled and the leaders in jail. Perhaps, what some people needed for their conclusions, was to decide to live with it.

He could live with not knowing, as long as the people he loved was safe and sound. He had gotten further with Conan’s help in a few weeks, than what he had done on his own for years and it had made him realize it had been a fool’s errand from the start. Sometimes you should just leave it up to professionals – and in the end, everyone got their just end one way or another. It was the thought that allowed him to sleep at night.

“About the music box,” he started, and stared down on his hands. “The reason I haven’t talked about it, is because its doo darn depressing.”

“You didn’t find it?” she held her breath in anticipation.

“Worse,” he gave her a sad, lopsided grin.

“How can there be an even worse alternative?” she wrinkled her forehead in puzzlement.

“We found the music box, however,” he paused dramatically, and she glared at him for withholding on purpose. It produced a grin twitching on his lips, before dying out a moment later. “It was empty. We investigated it thoroughly – even got it ex-rays. If there ever were any documents in it, its long gone. It was always a long shot – but at one point we had thought it was the solution. Convinced it held the answer to everything. Conan died, for nothing.”

“Oh, Kaito,” she looked as though she wanted to reach for him. “That’s terrible. No wonder you are wrecked with guilt. If there had been anything, at least he would have died for something. I never thought – I mean, I didn’t –“ she trailed off, not knowing what to say.

He only nodded dimly, “I know. It is what it is sometimes.” He picked up his chopsticks again. “I just wish I had been thinking rationally way before and given up while it wasn’t too late. Now, enough about depressing topics. Let’s eat.”

She agreed and started eating as well. They changed the discussion to more light subject like movies and new tricks Kaito had come up with during his long break from performing. By the time Yukio and Hakuba waltzed into the kitchen, the mood from their previous conversation had evaporated.

“Kaito-ojisan,” the boy grinned as he ran towards him to give him a hug. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been practicing that trick you showed me, do you want to see?”

He hugged him back, and nodded eagerly. He loved how, to Hakuba’s big chagrin, that Yukio was more interest in his profession rather than his father’s. “Please do. I bet you are as good as me by now.”

The child giggled happily, “just barely.” He then sat him down and showed him how he could manage to turn a card into a handful of coins. It was performed a bit shakingly, and Kaito could see the switch exchanged, but he was proud of him. He clapped his hands and cheered at Yukio beaming at him proudly.

Kaito stayed for dinner, and long enough to read a night-time story to Yukio before his bedtime – he had insisted that Kaito did it. He really did feel like an uncle to the kid – a blessed feeling. He kissed Aoko’s cheek as he left – even though she had offered to let him stay the night if he wanted. However, he felt drained from all the socializing and emotional conversation that day. Hakuba offered to drive him home, but he declined, wanting the fresh, cold spring evening wind to clear his thoughts.

He could not see any stars as he stared at the sky – the light pollution of Tokyo too bright to see any. But he still imagined he could see them on the darkening night sky. He wished he had invited Conan to star-gazing in the Nevada desert – it had always been one of his favourite activities. He was sorry to know it would never happen.

He decided to walk to the closest underground station instead of taking the bus. He thought about everything he and Aoko and discussed. He knew she was right, deep down, however he thought he would allow himself to grieve and feel guilt just a little while longer. He knew know that holding on negative emotions was unhealthy – had held on them for fifteen years, but now he was ready to move on. Throw all his energy and time into his work – he loved seeing children happy.

The sound of laughter snapped him out of his thoughts. A group of teenagers sat in a staircase, holding brown paper bags and drinking from the contents of them – presumably alcohol. A cat hissed softly to Kaito’s left. He turned, and saw a small can sitting on top of a stone fence, one that had a flower pot with fresh spring flowers growing on top of it.

The cat was black and white, with a short tail, one of the ears were chipped, and a purple collar was around the throat. She had her heckles raised as the hair on her back stood up straight at the curve of her back. She let out another hiss.

“Just ignore them,” he murmured to the cat. He held his palm out towards her careful and slowly. After a moment of nothing happening, she sniffed at his fingers. That seemed to calm her down – that or the softness of his voice. She sat back down, and licked his fingers twice.

A smile twitched his lips, as a warm feeling in his chest chased away the chill evening air. He rubbed his fingers underneath her chin, and was rewarded with a purr. His eyes automatically went to the collar she was wearing. There was a small token dangling from it, formed as a heart. It read ‘Luci’.

A small stone suddenly ricocheted off the wall, making a small sound, followed by the drunk laughter from the teenagers. The cat jumped an inch in surprise, and with another hiss she jumped off the wall, and right into the road.

Kaito had already turned to yell at the disrespecting teens, when he heard a soft thump, followed by the loud breaks from a car. With a heart dropping, he turned slowly around as the car kept driving after only stopping for a brief second. Laying there, in the middle of the street, was a lump of went fur.

The laughter had died out, followed by some swearing, and he was half aware of running as the group dispersed. Tears prickled in Kaito’s eyes as he ran towards the lump. The fur was covered in blood, and tired markers had made an indention over the back. The cat mewled softly with a pained voice.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured, swallowing down the panic. His hands hovered uncertainly, not precisely certain how he should move her. After a moment he decided to scoop her up into his arms. “I’ll get you help.”

He turned towards the staircase, only to realize he was completely alone. The teens were long gone, so he couldn’t ask them for direction to the closest vet. His stomach sank even further – his shoulder tensed a little from unmasked anger. The driver had just kept driving without bothering to stop to check what he had hit – and the teens had just dispersed so they wouldn’t get in trouble. Some people were truly monsters, he thought silently.

It was then that he realized that the shivering cat had stopped moving in his arms, and the sound of painful breathing had ceased. He looked down at the ball of fur in his arms with dread. He moved the head to see if there was any movement, however it simply flopped to the side. The yellow eyes were still open, open and unmoving.

The cat was dead.

He swallowed down the sob that threatened to wrench itself from his throat. The cat had been well groomed, and even had a collar. Luci had been someone’s cherished pet, and she had been chased into the street and hit by a car by callous individuals that had simply fled from the site. How could people be so horribly indifferent?

Almost with shaking hands, he flipped over the token with the cat’s name on it. Behind it read an address. He checked the streetname he was on, and realized it wasn’t far. He considered for a second to leave the cat there in the flower bushes, but shook his head. If it was his cherished pet, he would want to know.

Before he realized it, he was already walking. It felt like he was in a hazy daze that made it hard to think. Why did everything he touch have to die? It was unfair. The cat wouldn’t have died it if hadn’t been for the drunken teens thinking it was funny to bother a poor innocent soul.

He stopped in front of a door. He swallowed thickly, and a shot of adrenaline pumped through his veins from anxiety. He didn’t particularly want to be here, nor be the one to tell someone the sad news, but he felt as though no one else would have cared to do so, and it was the least he could do to honour the little cat.

He rang the bell.

Immediately, he could hear movement from inside. He bit his lips, wondering what sight would meet the owner of the house. A mess he imagined, a man with tousled clothing and hair, and wide, red eyes were he did his best to keep from shedding the tears threatening to choke him. He wondered if his sleeves and hands were covered in blood. The small ball of fur in his arms must be the worst sight.

The door opened, and a woman in her thirties with her hair up in a pin looked at him. She wore a yellow dress, modest make up and slippers. The smile on her lips died before she could even greet him, and turned into one of grief.

“I found your cat,” he croaked out, blinking wildly to keep the tears from shedding. “I’m sorry.”

From behind him, he could hear a door opening and closing, followed by a child calling for his mother. She immediately turned around to reply, “stay where you are Shino. Don’t come here.” She turned back to address Kaito. “I – thank you,” she gave him a watering smile.

Before he could protest, she had already scoped the cat out of his eyes – seeming to not give one single damn that the blood would ruin her yellow dress. She cradled Luci like she was made of porcelain, and her eyes was filled with tears. Her lips were pointed downwards in distress.

“It’s the least I could do,” he replied softly, feeling both sad and warmed by the fact that she seemed to really care for the cat.

“How –“ she had to clear her throat to try again, not letting her eyes off the little furball in her arms. “How did it happen?”

“Someone spooked her and she ran into the street. She –“ this time he had to clear his voice, and his eyes dropped down to stare at his feet. “She died on impact,” he lied, thinking it better she believed the cat had died without any pain. No one wanted any of their family members to die suffering.

“Thank you,” the woman replied, her lips thin in an attempt to smile, but failed at it.

“Have a nice day,” he bowed, before turning around. He did not get a reply, but was not expecting it either. The door closed behind him as he walked the last step down. He took a shivering breath and shook a hand through his hair. All he wanted to do now was to go home and take a soak, maybe raid his cabinet to find something strong to drink.

With that mind, he started walking again.

…

The ride on the underground wasn’t long, and soon he was trotting the street home. He could see his house at the end of the block. It was the same house he had grown up with – had never had the heart to sell it. Especially with the KID cave in the basement. Sometimes, he wondered mischievously how shocked the next family who moved in would be to find a secret compartment in their own house.

No, he did not have a heart to sell it, nor did he feel any need to move out. He had everything he needed there after all. He unlocked the door of his house, and let himself in. However, a cold shiver went down his spine, making him freeze on his spot. He could suddenly not breathe.

Nothing seemed amiss, all his stuff was exactly where he had left it – however there was something in the air. Something was wrong – as though the dust particles had changed. Slowly, he reached towards the light switch, his heart thrumming in throat as adrenaline made him twitchy.

He flipped the switch, and the room basked in white, artificial light. He had been expecting to see someone lurking in the corner of the room, holding a gun and preparing to shoot him. None of that happened, in fact, he was alone.

Not remotely appeased, he clutched his key between his knuckles, ready to use it as a weapon in case anyone sprung at him. He looked into the kitchen – it was empty. As was the next room. Entering the third room he had started to feel silly. It was probably just his imagination – just paranoid due to the conversation he had had with Aoko earlier that day. That he feared someone might come after her if he didn’t give up the case.

He knew logically that no one knew he was involved – well, other than perhaps Shimada Hanzo. However, it had been half a year and he was still alive – if they wanted him dead he would have died along with Conan, he was sure about that.

He closed the entrance door – had kept it open in case he had to make a run for it. Then he left the keys at the table, and went upstairs. He beelined to the bathroom to relieve himself, and washes his face thoroughly in the mirror.

He laughed silently at himself for being so paranoid – he had nothing to worry about. His paranoia just only in his head. Once again, his thoughts strayed to Conan. He wondered what it was like being undercover, knowing someone could come for you at any moment. Knowing that you were never safe and having to be careful. That’s why he had never told Kaito the whole truth, and he did not blame the detective for it one bit.

He would probably done the same for Aoko if their positions were switched. Conan did what he had to survive and keep the woman he loved safe after all. The fact he had jeopardized it all for Kaito’s sake, meant the world to him. It was evidence that the detective had cared about his wellbeing – even though he wished Conan had never gotten involved with it in the first place. Some days he wished he could take it all back, go back in time and never meet him. At least then, Conan would still be alive.

It was hard to think about Edogawa Conan as Kudou Shinichi. To him, he had always been Conan, and always would be. Kudou Shinichi was a face he had worn in a time long before them, and Conan was who he had turned into – the person Kaito had fallen for.

Looking in the mirror, he felt as though he looked like crap. He had a streak of blood on his cheek, and he washed it off with a cloth. He had been right about his clothing being ruined. He wrestled himself out of his shirt, and threw it in the direction of the laundry basket. He knew logically that he should was the clothes immediately, otherwise the blood would dry and stink up the entire bathroom. However he could not find the energy to care right there and then. He felt drained and dead on his feet.

Now that he was undressed, his eyes immediately snapped towards the words written across his collarbone. Almost without noticing, he let his fingers brush against those wretched words.

_‘Just so I can watch the snow fall,”_ was scrawled in elegant letters. The last thing Conan had ever told him. Sometimes he woke up hearing those words echoing back at him, like a broken record. He wondered when he would stop dreaming about that night. Looking at them now, he felt dispassionate – they no longer meant anything to him. They were just word now: a pointless tattoo, as they no longer connected him to his soulmate.

He wondered if his hatred for snow would cease now that he had no longer any reason to fear them. Perhaps he should let Aoko drag him to ice skating or skiing come winter, and finally try out the sport everyone around him enjoyed. It was worth a try – who knows, maybe he could pick up a new hobby.

Grabbing a new shirt and putting it on, he left the bathroom and turned on the lights in his bedroom. He sat down on the bed with a sigh. This day had started alright and then just gone straight to shit. Why wouldn’t he ever get a break?

He stared towards his desk. Sitting amongst a pile of random items was a small, round box. It had intricate patterns in the form of Sakura blossoms. It looked as though it was followed by a trail of gold brush strokes.

He reached towards it after a moment of hesitation, and opened the lid. Immediately the soft sound of music filled the air. A small ballerina with her leg in the air held a large, red ruby in her hands. The artificial light above made it almost glitter. It was not Pandora – the had checked. It would have been a sad irony if it had been.

Kaito closed it a moment later, the music not cheering him up remotely, and he put it down next to him. He did not know why had kept the blasted thing – maybe has a token of memory. Perhaps he should track down the original owner and give it back. It only sat there reminding him of his failures. He sighed again and raked his hand through his hair.

“You should stop sighing so much, or you will let all your happiness escape.”

Kaito jumped from the bed in surprise, his heart hammering in his chest. He felt frozen to his spot as his eyes widened cosmically. He knew that voice – but it was impossible. His mind must be playing tricks on him, it was the only logical conclusion He had gone mad, he was certain of it. Even as the thought twirled in his head, he turned around slowly.

Perked leaning against the wall, with the curtains blowing behind him from the open window – stood none other than Edogawa Conan. He didn’t look any different than from the last time he had seen him. Same arrogant smile, calculating blue eyes, same midnight blue trench coat and shirt. He could even see the outline of suspenser under the fabric.

Part of him wanted to tackle the detective into a hug – the other part wanted to shake him and yell. The winning part had him rooted to the floor with his mouth open in shock. After a silent moment of no one talking – Conan was waiting for him it seems.

The only thing that managed to escape his throat was a thin, “is this real?”

Conan’s whole demeanour softened and he uncrossed his arms. “Yeah. This is real. I’m here, this is not a dream.”

Kaito did not feel as though his feet could hold is weight, the way they were shaking, and he sat down on his bed again. His mind felt blank, he did not know what to think – a voice in the back of his head wanted to lamely respond with ‘that’s what a dream would say’. He did, however, not say any of that.

Conan fished something up from a side pocket as he approached Kaito. Standing above him, he held a piece of paper in his direction.

He stared dimly at the note – it was folded so he could not see anything. After a moment, he reached towards it. “What is that?”

“What you were looking for,” came the cryptical reply.

Taking the note, his hands fell down on his lap, and all he could do was stare blindly down at the folded piece of paper grasped between his fingers. He could not muster the energy to open it – this all felt so unreal. He had thought the detective dead for months, and this was the only thing he received? Part of him wanted to grasp Conan tightly and burrow his head into his stomach and cry. He had spent so long trying to deal with his grief and accept the situation. But now? Everything was ripped open like an open wound.

“Why,” he managed to gasp through his clenched teeth, doing is best to keep the tears from emerging. He wanted to ask him why he had left him, why he had done it, but he didn’t manage more than a simple word.

Conan must have understood him perfectly, and his lips twitched ever so slightly – not into a smile or a grimace, just a simple nervous tick. “You were never going to give up your chase, no matter what anyone said. So I did the only thing I could do for you.”

Kaito furrowed his eyebrows in confusion – there were truth in what the detective said, he wouldn’t have given up the chase, and he knew it. But what exactly did he mean by his words? “You tried helping me by faking your own death?” he could not help the bitterness in his words.

“I couldn’t very well keep working on the case with Vermouth and her lackeys on my tail. She is a dangerous woman, as long as I don’t get in her way, she don’t mind me. I needed to go deep undercover with everyone thinking I was dead – it was crucial she bought it. And she did.”

He wanted to stay angry, but his stomach twisted and his chest hammered at the sudden revelation. He stared up at Conan with shocked wonderment. “You are self-sacrificing prick,” he said out loud in astonishment. The anger turned into a mixture of annoyance and relief. Shinichi had done the exact same thing to him as he had to Ran fifteen years ago. Sacrificed everything for someone he cared for, not caring how much it cost him – that it cost him everything.

He felt a chill go down his spine at the revelation. Conan took care of everyone, but no one ever had his back. Kaito had used his services selfishly, never asked the detective if he wanted to help – simply assumed it. Yet Conan had done everything for him and more.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt, I’m sorry,” the detective looked genuinely remorseful. “I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. I’m fine with that, as long as you are unharmed.”

Kaito clenched his teeth and shook his head. He was not angry at Conan, he was more angry at himself. The problems had been rooted far deeper than he had ever thought. He was hurt, understandably, but he was pitying the detective more. This beautiful, kind, brilliant man was never selfish: he had left Ran to keep her safe, and she had found a partner and had kids. When was it his turn to get what he wanted?

He bit his lip as a cruel thought popped into his mind, and he lowered his eyes, scared to ask the question out loud. He decided he was tired of being a coward and not getting his answers – for months he had begged for just one more minute with the detective, and now he had finally gotten his wish granted.

“I understand you wanted me out of the way. I was kind of useless,” he waved the protest away with annoyed huff, not letting Conan object, “but, I can’t help but wonder what was a ruse and what was the truth.” He bit his lip harder this time, and the metal taste of blood spread across his palate, a moment later he managed to rush out in half desperation, “did you really have feelings for me, or was it part of your plans?”

Conan shook his head quickly, and his hands twitched as though he yearned to reach and console him. However, he must be under the assumption Kaito did not want anything to do with him, and he stood unmoving as his willpower won. “I meant what I said. I wanted to ask you out when this is all over. It’s not going to be over for a while. I care about you deeply, Kaito. Its been years since I’ve ever felt like this. I don’t expect an apology is enough, or for you to forgive me. But that’s alright, I can live with that.”

Kaito felt anger bubble in his chest. The detective was infuriatingly self-sacrificing, he wanted to shake him and scream at him to be more selfish. The anger disappeared as quick as it came as the fluttering of his heart against the ribcage drowned down the feeling. Conan cared about him – the feelings had been mutual. He felt his cheek heating and he hoped the darkness of the room hid the blush.

“You are a fucking idiot, you know that,” he gazed up at him, “infuriating like hell. Yet I still care about you. I can’t promise anything though. I’ve been hurting for so long, and here you are, like a dream. I wish you had been honest – using my soulmark against me? That’s really scummy.”

He understood how Tiffany felt now, it was a serious breach of trust. Conan had hit him where it would hurt the most – fully knowing that the action would sour Kaito’s opinion about him, that he would be sacrificing the start of a possible relationship. All logic told him that he should be infuriated at the detective. Instead he just felt sad, that the only way he knew how to show love was to sacrifice everything he cherished just so the person would be safe.

Kaito had asked the impossible of him – the identity of the man behind his father’s death. And Conan, had delivered. How could he stay mad? It felt as though the pain of the past few months washed away as he looked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” Conan repeated as he gazed down with a sad expression – lurking in the back of his eyes were heartbreak.

“How did you know my soulmark anyway?” he asked, curious about that fact.

Conan wouldn’t meet his eyes, “the night we slept together.”

That made sense, he wasn’t happy about the fact something so personal to him had been used against him. but he could somewhat understand the detective’s thoughts.

Kaito couldn’t take it anymore, didn’t know how to show him that he did not begrudge him for simply doing as he had demanded the detective do. He had followed his wishes the only way he could – by breaking Kaito’s heart in the process. The least he could do, was to make sure the detective heart didn’t burst as well. He stood from the bed, cradled Conan’s face, and before the detective could stop him, he pressed their lips together.

He had expected the kiss to be desperation, of teeth clashing against teeth – like last time. Instead it was a sweet, sad kiss of months of tension. It felt like they were finally home. The familiar smell of the detective washed over him – that of coffee and old books, and he sighed into the kiss. For the first time in months, he felt calm.

Conan broke the kiss, and he looked shily through his lashes at the magician. He no longer looked sad and heartbroken, instead he shimmered slightly of content – happy that he had not lost his chance.

“I cant promise how long it will be until I forgive you. This was a big breach of trust,” Kaito said, his eyes filled with steel, despite the soft expression he was sure he was wearing.

Conan nodded in understanding, “I wouldn’t expect anything else. So, about the note. It has the name of the person behind everything,” licked his lips, his eyes darted towards the note Kaito was still holding.

He withdrew his hands, but stayed in the detective’s personal space. With a breath, he unfolded the piece of paper to reveal a name. This was it, the answer to his questions – the product of fifteen years of searching. Conan had found the culprit, and yet Kaito felt himself hesitate. The past few months had been him giving up on the search, deciding to live his own life instead. Chikage and been nothing but supportive, she too had given up. After all this time, she looked finally at peace, smiling without restraint. On the other hand, this note, this small piece of paper – could end it once and for all. Finally get their revenge.

“What would you like to do?” the detective finished.

**THE END**

_A/N: I dedicate this chapter to Luci, my cat, who was hit by a car last week, and didn’t make it either. A friend of mine suggested I wrote about it, so I gave it a shot._

_Until next time,_

_Cesela_


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